Battle For Freedom: A Dark Days FanFiction
by fighterkirby1998
Summary: This is the story of The Dark Days, and the truth of what really happened in those treacherous nights that were the dawn of the Hunger Games...
1. Chapter 1

This is my first story on the site, and I'm sort of just testing it... I've posted this fanfiction on the Scholastics Message Boards already, but I'm spreading the story around. It will have 27 chapters, like the Hunger Games books, but its parts will be divided unevenly. Feel free to review, comment, or flame, if absolutely necessary. Let Battle of Freedom begin!

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**PART ONE - TESTING THE WATERS**

_Chapter One_

Life is unfair.

It's supposed to be fair, but it isn't.

Whoever created the world didn't have the foresight to see what will become of the world. Sure, there's been unfair situations before - when your parents buy your brother a video game but buys you a cracker, but this is completely different.

Forcing kids to work under the hot sun, to jump from tree to tree a hundred feet in the air, twelve hours a day and still starving us, there's nothing more unfair than that.

Well, that's when I had my brilliant idea.

"Go home!" shouts a Peacekeeper. I drop my basket, exhausted. We've been working six hours straight since one, and all of us are tired. We get exactly one hour for lunch, and then it's back to work. I didn't get to finish my bread and cheese fast enough so I had to work on a half-full stomach.

Everyone harvests during the harvest seasons. The sun is broiling down on us, threatening to bake us as we troop back to the village. On the way out, I poke my best friend Holly on the arm.

She turns to look at me, but not talking. I breathe in her ear, "Meet me at my house at eight thirty, in the yard," and she nods, scampering away. I have my brilliant idea ready.

When I get home, Amy's already there. Of course she would be - her work ends at six. There's a huge mountain to the west, so there's always an early sunset. They don't want people bumping into each other in the fields, or swinging a sickle the wrong way. All the night-vision goggles go towards the foragers.

"Holly's coming after eight," I tell my sister. Alright, we're orphans, but I'm still the older child. Our parents were killed from that muttation attack years ago. Our aunt took care of us but eventually passed away from a serious fever. I hate the Capitol that way.

That war which made Panem rise happened forty-nine years ago. This year, in December, they'll celebrate the 50th anniversary of Panem. I don't want that to happen. My plan should be obvious now, shouldn't it?

I had managed to slip a few strawberries in my pocket, and no one noticed. Amy finds the bread they gave her today, and slices the loaf into fourteen slices. One for each of us, enough to go for a week, when they'll give her another loaf. I put out some basil leaves and mint leaves, and so we have our tiny dinner.

No wonder we're both as puny as a twelve-year-old instead of fourteen.

"So, did anything happen today?" Amy asks after ten minutes of silence.

"Ruth fell out of a tree. She gets a week off work," I grumble. "Lucky."

"But her family can afford a week without her share of pay," Amy points out. I nod unhappily.

"Unlike us," I say. It's true. We rely on each other. Amy brings the wheat and bread. I bring the leaves and berries, occasionally nuts. Never meat. We might be hungry sometimes but we've lived on each other.

"Yeah," says Amy gloomily.

We sit like that until we finish off our bread. It takes time to work our muscles, stretching our limbs, massaging each others' sore muscles. By the time we are finished, it's almost eight thirty.

Amy and I chat for a few moments, but there's nothing really to chat about. Eight thirty comes and goes. By the time it's nearing eight forty-five I'm beginning to get worried.

"Holly should be here by now!" I cry out.

"Why is she coming anyways?" Amy asks. I don't bother asking what's on her mind. I already know. Obviously, it's our parents, before they got killed. Killed in that stupid muttation attack.

"Because I don't want to work like slaves," I say fiercely. "Haven't you thought about it, Amy? They work us to death out there. We never get enough food. We never get a good night's sleep. We never even get to see the moon because of how tired we are! I'm sick of this, Amy! I want this to stop!"

Amy's silent for a few moments, and then she speaks.

"What can we do about it, Aryn?" she asks. "We're just kids."

Yes, we're just kids. Amy's always been the cautious type, whereas I'm the action type. We might be twins, but we're not alike.

"How can you not care?" I ask. "How? They killed our parents! They killed them!" I point to the only photograph in the house, a small black-and-white photo of my family. My mother, my father, Amy and I. We were only nine in the picture. Two months later, two of those people died. My parents.

"I do care," says Amy softly. A knock on the door disrupts the tension between us. It's Holly.

I unlock the door for her. She shakes her sopping hair and steps into the threshold.

"It's pouring out there," she says unnecessarily. "This has better be good."

"It is," I say. "Holly, have you ever gotten tired of the foraging?"

"That's obvious," she says. "Yes a thousand times over."

"Do you want it to stop?"

"If we don't starve, yes."

"Maybe... we can do something about it," I say. I'm sick and tired of it. I really want it to stop."

"But how?" Holly asks, quoting Amy. "Aryn, three kids can't exactly stop the force of the entire nation of Panem."

"Not the entire nation," I remind her. "I'm sure that the people of the districts will agree with us. It's just the Capitol."

"The Peacekeepers," Amy interrupts. "I want to chip in, Aryn, but you must know what you're getting into!"

"Well, everything begins with one small step," I say. "Tomorrow, you guys ask around. Don't let the Peacekeepers hear you. If we can outnumber them, because we're the largest district around, then maybe we can break out and warn the other districts. I want this to end."

There's silence. "You're asking for one hell of a miracle," Holly finally says.

"But what are we going to do once we get the districts to ally with us?" Amy asks. "We're still kids."

"But we're kids who can lead the uprisings!" I shout. "The fiftieth anniversary is coming up. Now's the time to smash the Capitol's dreams. It's time for it all to end!"

"Please tell me I heard you wrong," says Amy finally.

"You didn't," I reply back. "This calls for a rebellion."

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There's Chapter One! I'll have Chapter Two on in a few days... I'm just hoping that I get reviews for this...


	2. Chapter 2

Because I have a bit of time tonight... well, here's Chapter Two, a day early! I know about the grammar issues... but my edited version is in the regular paragraph form, so I can't upload that one instead. Anyways, I'll try to edit these as I go...

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_Chapter Two_

"Rebellion, you say," says Holly.

"Yes," I tell her. "I've been suggesting that ever since you got here!"

She stares off into the distance, as if trying to pull our conversation from the past.

"Aryn," says Amy quietly. She repeats my name again, only louder.

"What?" I finally ask, irritated. Is anyone going to side with me? These two are so stubborn!

"Well, how exactly are we going to incite a rebellion? How do we overthrow the Capitol? You've got to think this over, Sis!"

I take a deep breath. "Well... we'll talk about that later, okay? I mean, like, you know..."

"No, I don't know," says Holly and Amy simultaneously. Sometimes I think that they should be twins, not me and Amy. They're so alike - both shy and quiet, willing to think before acting.

I'm getting annoyed. "Once we've got this thing planned out, I promise that I'll tell you, okay? The moment I deem our district having a chance against the Peacekeepers, I'll call a meeting and reveal my plan."

"How do we even gather people?" Amy asks. "The Peacekeepers watch our every move. Meetings will be impossible."

"Even Peacekeepers have to sleep," I tell her. "At midnight, when the guards shift stations, we gather in the Underground."

Amy doesn't say anything. Neither does Holly. But finally I do.

"If you two are such big cowards you're fearing the Underground, I'll get Sage to come with me. He hates the Capitol too, you know."

Sage. I've never spoken to him, only saw him on one occasion. About five months ago, a woman was publicly executed for stealing food. Her family was hungry; all she took were a couple of strawberries and died for it. She had three kids. Her husband had died from hunger recently, and she didn't want her kids going the same way. Now, her kids are orphans.

Like us.

Sage is her eldest child, sixteen now and from what I hear, almost seventeen. He has two younger siblings, I know. Pine and Mint. I think Pine is thirteen and Mint is nine. I'm sure that they'll side with me.

What am I talking about? I'm about to side with someone I've never spoken to. Never made any gesture of each others' existence. We've never looked at each other in the eye. But I know that he'll be my first choice as a recruit.

"You must be kidding me, Aryn," says Holly. "If you dragged me all the way over here, only to talk about overthrowing the Capitol, forget it. I'm not doing it. It's hopeless, buddy. The Capitol's got strong firearms, we've got nothing. Only in terms of numbers, but the Capitol's weapons must outnumber that fifty to one. No, if we have any chance of success, it won't be to charge. We need someone smart for that!"

"Yeah, we do," I say simply. "I know just the perfect choice."

"Who?" Amy asks, a bit accusingly.

"Maybelle Waters. The mayor's niece. She aces every test in school, never gets in trouble, but I know personally that she's the one who grafittied the school walls with berry juice without getting caught. She's that smart."

"Maybelle Waters..." Amy murmurs. "Well, she's a good choice, I suppose, but who knows if she'll side with us? She's the mayor's niece. She never starves."

"But she watches other people starve," I counter. "They fall to the ground every day, Amy! Too tired to get up again! The Capitol ignores them. The Peacekeepers walk past them. It's only us who stare at them pitifully, but can't afford to give them food to keep going!" I pause to draw in a deep breath but Amy cuts me off.

"Maybelle Waters has food. Tons of it. Her uncle must get a steady supply of them. I've seen her pass the starving and the ill on the streets. She never glances twice at them."

I give my only answer available. "Because she's too smart to do it."

Amy and Holly stare at me in confusion. What do I mean by that? I don't really know, either, but suddenly, out of the blue, I do.

"What-" Holly starts off, but I cut her off.

"She knows that her parents, her uncle, her relatives, the Peacekeepers won't approve of that. She'll only bring trouble down on her and her family!"

"How do you know, then," Holly asks snarkily. "She might just not care. She's going to bust you to the Peacekeepers and surely you're a goner. Aryn, please, don't do it!"

"Even if I die, at least I can say I tried!" I yell in her face. Amy takes a step back although it's Holly I'm yelling at. She's never seen me so enraged before.

"Then you do it yourself," Holly says angrily. She storms through the house and wrenches open the door. For a split second, the room echoes with the angry patters of rain against pavement, the thunder striking the sky, and then the door slams open and she's gone.

I stand in silence, and I see that Amy's shocked still, too. It seems like a long time before either of us move, but in truth it's probably only a few seconds.

"Aryn-" Amy tries to say, but she's cut off by a long, loud scream. The wailing continues for a few seconds but suddenly is cut short. Amy stares at me as the realization dawns on her.

I leap up, and run out the door, slippers bashing against the wet pavement, the rain soaking into my sweater, but I don't care. All I care about now is to reach her...

The bloodcurdling scream was Holly's.

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Yes, a very lame ending. I know, I fail at cliffhangers. Oh well, I'm trying...


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys, I just found out that italics screw up when I copy my stuff onto Word, but I managed to track down some of the parts where it should be italics. This one's also shorter than usual, but I promise that Chapter Twenty-Six will be huge. Trust me. Huge. Anyways... enjoy!

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_Chapter Three_

"Holly!" I scream, running out into the cold wind. The bitter blows to my head make it dizzy for me to stand upright. Through the pouring buckets of rain, all I can see is a black veil of hopelessness. Holly screams again, and I run faster.

Feet pounding on the streets, sloshing through more water than air, I finally locate Holly. She's flat out on her back, a Peacekeeper hovering over her, gun in hand. I slow down, not wanting the Peacekeeper to hear me.

Some Peacekeeper. They don't keep the peace. They keep the violence.

Amy's caught up with me now. I wasn't exactly hard to follow, even in the loud claps of thunder. Amy touches my shoulder, but I wave her off with a finger pressed to my mouth.

"On the count of three," I breathe in to her ear. I nod at the Peacekeeper. Amy nods back. She understands.

"One," I murmur. I can hear the Peacekeeper yelling at Holly, but I can't focus on that now.

"Two," Amy whispers. Her sodden hair is whipping freely across my face, but I don't care.

"Three," we say together, and charge at the Peacekeeper.

He doesn't hear us coming in the cold night wind, and he's not exactly big. We tackle him, piling onto the pavement, limb over limb. He screams, and I stop.

I know that voice, too.

"Sage?" I ask quietly. What are the chances of running into _him _in the rain on a sodden evening? "I... but... I'm sorry, I thought you were a Peacekeeper!"

"Why would a Peacekeeper attack Holly Millson?" Sage asks angrily, rubbing a ferocious burn on his arm caused my the friction between gravel and skin. The cold water helps, but he's still wincing.

"I don't know," Amy says sarcastically. "Maybe she was shouting about a rebellion?"

Even here, in the dark, I can see Sage's bright green eyes flicker with excitement. "Rebellion?" he asks in a hushed tone. "I... I... why didn't I hear of this?" His face melts into an unreadable blank sheet of paper.

"Because the first idea only started tonight," I reply, pulling him to my feet. "Sage, will you join the rebellion?"

"I'd sacrifice myself for it," he replies. "Ever since they killed Mother..." His eyes flash off to the distant past, back when his mother was still alive and well. "You're Aryn Rosalina."

"Yes," I say, gratified that he actually pronounced my name right. Hardly anyone does on the first try.

"I'm Amy," says my sister, holding out her hand. Sage doesn't take it, but nods at her. By the look on her face, I think Amy's convinced that we should actually try. Sage might be a kid, too, but he seems so strong and... superior. He makes us think that we actually have a chance.

Then I hear Holly whimpering, and I gasp. How could I forget about my best friend, even though she just left me a couple of minutes ago? I can't see any blood on the ground, but it's probably washed away by the thundering rain.

But it's starting to end. The rain falls in light, shimmery drops of water as the pale moon shows. Sparkles dance off water. If there is one time to get Holly out of here, it's now.

Sage takes her back without question. Amy takes her legs, I take her middle portion of the body. Whatever happened to her is unknown, and I'm desperate to find out.

"Sage," I say. "Why were you yelling at Holly?"

He looks down. "She was crying and cursing things I couldn't hear. Right outside my front door, she collapsed and began screaming. I headed out."

"What were yelling to her about?" Amy asks softly. Holly gives a grunt as she hears Amy's voice.

"I wanted her to talk to me... I was afraid that she was going to... to die. I already saw my mother dead, and I don't want an innocent girl dying, either," he replies, voice full of sorrow.

"Oh," I say. I look down at Holly's torn and fragile body, her rain-sodden clothes, and wish that I hadn't.

Right across Holly's left arm is a very nasty cut, no, more of a hole, blood slowly pouring from it. I give a grunt of disgust and look away, hoping that Amy wouldn't look.

Of course, that's too much to hope for. She stares down at the gaping wound and gives out a cough of surprise.

"B...But..." she stammers. "But the only thing that can make that kind of wound is a gun!" she cries.

The three of us look at each other, and the realization dawns upon us.

There is only one kind of person in District Eleven who can use the gun freely.

_Peacekeepers._

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_Yeah, I'm kinda big on cliffhangers. I'll have the next chapter up in a day. Thanks for the reviews everyone!


	4. Chapter 4

This one's longer than usual, at least... Again, the italics screwed up. Oh, well. At least it's readable... anyways, yes, there's another cliffhanger, because I'm just so mean.

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_Chapter Four_

"We need to get her to a doctor," I say fiercely. "And if we avoided the Peacekeepers before, it's even more important that we escape their fingers now. It's their gun that made this wound."

"She can't go back to the foraging, that's for sure," says Sage grimly. He readjusts his grip on Holly and she moans.

"Go to sleep," says Amy softly. She takes Holly by the legs again. I take care to avoid her arm, now.

Holly's eyelashes flutter, her chocolate brown eyes showing through even in the night. "Where... I..."

"Go to sleep," I say, quoting Amy. "When you wake up, all of this will be gone."

I suppose that it's a bit hard to believe that you've woken up in the middle of the night with your two friends and a stranger carrying you. Well, Holly seems to think so because she sighs into sleep.

We begin walking. There seems to be an unspoken agreement to go to Dr. Anne Perils's place, because she's the best doctor around. We try to go as fast as possible, but with the constant fear of Peacekeepers it's hard. So we stick to the shadows.

Luckily, the bullet didn't go straight through Holly's arm, so it's still lodged instead. Serious, yes. Fatal, with the right treatment, no. But what worries me is what we'll say to our bosses tomorrow. The ones who pay us, work us, feed us. They can't know why Holly was shot, because I've no doubt that someone was listening in on our talk, and the Peacekeepers must be hunting for me, too.

I freeze in my tracks. Sage, whose mind must be occupied, nearly bumps into me. Holly stirs in her sleep.

Amy looks back, irritated. "What?"

"Amy," I say, as calmly was I can. "There's only one reason why Holly was shot. Someone was listening in on us."

She shrugs. "Yeah, it's occurred to me."

"If they've got Holly, then they'll be after us, too."

Unlike most people, when Amy gets surprised, she seems to get calmer. "Well, that's a bummer."

We look at Sage.

"What?" he asks, uncomfortable with people staring in his eye.

"They can't know you're in the plot, too," I say. "We talked to you outside. There's no way all of the houses are bugged... So in other words, you're the only... rebel," I say in a hushed tone, "they don't know about. Tomorrow, Amy and I will go into hiding. It's up to you to bring them to our hiding place."

"Well, we do have to hide," says Amy, biting her lower lip. "But where? Somewhere big enough to contain the residents of District Eleven? Unlikely."

"There's one place," Sage says carefully. "But..."

I catch his drift. "The Underground? That's what I suggested to Amy!"

"No!" my sister cries, on cue.

"Well, District Thirteen uses their Underground, so why not us?" Sage says, the exact thing on my mind.

Amy studies his expression. Fierce eyes, lips set together in a line, slight frown. He's serious.

The Underground was built by the Capitol, one for each district. The districts use them to store things, like electronics, fabrics, fish, crops, berries. Each one is like a maze and not all of them are used. It'll be a perfect headquarters.

"There's only one entrance," I tell him. "And it's heavily guarded."

Amy stares at the two of us. "Maybe we should start walking."

Right. As much as the rebellion is important, so is Holly.

"There's another entrance," Sage says. I stare at him in confusion, but this time I don't stop walking.

"Another entrance? But... I thought the only one was in the Peacekeeper's Headquarters!" I say, struggling to keep my voice down.

"The mayor's house," says Sage. As if on cue, Amy and I look at each other.

"Maybelle Waters," we say together.

"Maybelle?" Sage asks. "The mayor's niece?"

We nod.

"She doesn't live at the mayor's house-" Sage begins, but Amy cuts in.

"She sometimes stays after school to look after her cousin," she says. "Maybe I can... I mean, maybe you can talk to her after school."

"I'll try," says Sage, a frown line appearing on his forehead. "Look... it's just that... are you sure that your plan's going to work? Aryn, you're the mastermind of this, right?"

I nod.

"What's your plan to rebel?"

"I have one," I say mysteriously. I do, actually. I'm just not ready to tell them yet. If I do, they'll abandon me utterly. If I have a full district under command, then it's too late to step down. Then they'll have to stick with it. Which is why I say, "I'm just not going to share it."

Sage sighs. "I figured you would say that. But Aryn, take notice that this'll be hard. We mean next to nothing to the Peacekeepers; we're just here to fill in the gaps. They can kill all of us."

"Then they lose their supply of food," I say simply. "We harvest the food for them. The Underground storage can't last forever. If it works, we can use it."

"Perfect," says Amy sarcastically. She rolls her eyes and turns around to walk. We've already left the main road and onto the doctor's street.

Sometimes, I think Amy doesn't take me too seriously.

"So Maybelle can help us," says Sage.

"Yeah," I reply. Just then, a cold breeze comes by and I shiver. I've just noticed how cold I am.

"Amy?" I ask. "Are you cold suddenly?"

She turns around. "Now you tell me? Before I wasn't but now you asked me I am!"

"Keep your voice down," Sage urges her. We're almost at Dr. Perils's front door. I wonder what she'll say about three kids turning up in the dead of the night, but I can only hope that she agrees to help us.

We knock on the door. Everyone knows that Dr. Perils is a light sleeper. We continue knocking until a light flickers on in one of the windows.

The door opens and a warm, golden glow spills from inside. "Dr. Perils-" I begin to say, but I freeze.

It's not the doctor. It's her daughter, Chime Perils, who is in my class at school. We're not friends, but not enemies. Just classmates. She stares us down.

Fortunately, I know Chime as a kind one. Once a squirrel got hurt and she treated it herself. Being a daughter of a doctor helps, but I think that she's started showing more compassion because of what happened to her father. He died after a fatal injury when a tree fell on top of him. It's a long story.

"What are you doing here?" she hisses at us. "It's ten already!"

Only ten? It has felt like four hours since I argued with Holly…

"Someone's hurt," I say. At the word hurt, Chime's nasty expression melts off.

"Why're you wet?" she asks. We're all soaked to the skin.

"Rain," I reply. "Chime, please, can you help us? She's got a gunshot wound!"

She immediately turns serious. "Mom!" she yells to the upper landing. Another light flickers on, and Dr. Perils comes down in her nightgown.

"What?" she asks, clearly tired.

"Gunshot wound to the arm," says Chime. Her mother doesn't ask anything, simply nods and takes Holly in her powerful arms. My friend looks like a crippled and fragile doll in Dr. Perils's arms.

"You can sit down," says Chime hastily, pointing to a few wooden chairs to the side of the hallway. "Don't worry about being wet... Um, you can go home and change."

I shake my head. The moment Chime leaves to help her mother, I collapse in one of the chairs.

"She has to be okay," I say, exhausted.

Sage sits down next to me. "She will."

We sit in silence for a few seconds, and finally I can't stand it. "Do you think Maybelle will help us?"

"She's arrogant, yes, but she's not a snob. Besides, we'll need her intelligence."

"Right," I say.

"She'll be valuable in a rebellion," I say. "It's helpful for someone smart when you're trying to overthrow the Capitol."

Sage sighs. "Aryn Rosalina," he says, pronouncing my name right, "We don't even know for sure if we're going to go for it!"

"You said yourself that you're going to help!" I say, hushed but on the inside, my temper is flaring.

"I just want our chances to be as high as possible!" he retorts. "I want this rebellion to succeed on the first try!"

I'm about to yell out a comeback to that but suddenly, I take notice of something beside me.

Chime, her face drained of blood, ashen white. She speaks in a hushed tone.

"What did you just say?" she whispers. "Something about... a rebellion?"

* * *

Yes, another cliffhanger. Aren't I just _so _evil?

Well, not really. Oh well, stay tuned for Chapter Five, coming tomorrow... We'll be done in less than a month!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five, right on time! Italics screwed up again, apart from the places I bothered to find. Review!

_

* * *

Chapter Five_

"Nothing," says Sage hastily, straightening up. Without noticing, we'd been leaning closer to talk in muffled voices. But Chime must have superhuman ears or something, because she definitely heard about rebellion.

"I heard something," she says, crossing her arms, and, putting all her weight onto one leg, begins tapping her other foot. "What did you say?" She lowers her voice. "A... rebellion?"

"No," I say desperately. She can't know about this. I'm not ready to include someone who's not a fighter. "You heard... um... ringing bells!" The only thing I could think of that's even a tiny bit close to rebellion. "We were talking about the bells that ring everyday at midnight..." My voice trails off as the glare from Chime's chocolate eyes grow stronger.

I'm good at lying, but only if I can think of a lie beforehand. I was just winging it. Obviously, it's not good enough to convince Chime.

Heck, it's not good enough to convince anyone.

"I'll tell you, under one condition," says Sage, breaking the uncomfortable silence that seems to crush and suffocate me. But now, all that pressure lifts off me as I turn to him, unnerved. He pretends that he doesn't see me.

"What?" Chime asks, coming over to sit next to him. She doesn't care that he's sopping wet. Besides, the warmness in the house has dried us... somewhat.

"Please don't turn Amy and Aryn in," says Sage quietly. At the sound of Amy's name, I jerk my head to the right, where Amy is sitting. She hasn't uttered a word. I had forgotten that she was there.

She's there, eyes closed, an even breathing coming from her. Fast asleep. No wonder, especially after all that's happened.

All that's happened. Through the space of little over an hour, I've had a shouting match between my sister and best friend, met someone who's just the right choice for a rebellion, saw a gaping hole in Holly's arm, and came to Dr. Perils's place soaking wet. I turn back around, talking somewhat quieter. "She's asleep."

Chime nods, and turns her focus back onto Sage. "Why not turn them in? What have they done?"

"Talked about... you know." Sage doesn't want to say a lot. Our earlier conversation was dangerous, too, but right here, talking out loud; if someone eavesdropped at my house, they can easily do it now. I wonder why the Peacekeepers aren't here, yet. Not that I'm complaining.

"Alright," says Chime after a moment's hesitation, jerking me back to the real world. But she must know that her house might be bugged. She might not be the smartest, but she's smart enough to know that if someone shot Holly about talks of rebellion, they can shoot her, too. A finger pulled, a click heard, a dead girl.

"Chime!" calls Dr. Perils from inside the house. "What are you doing? I told you to get the bark!"

Chime sighs. "Sorry," she says. "One second."

Her mother mutters something about how she's putting a patient's life in danger, and my heart stops cold. Chime's about to climb the stairs to the upper floor when I stop her.

"What?" she asks, irritated.

"Can I go see Holly?" I ask.

"Better not. My mother will just shoo you out," she says, and leaps up the flight three steps at at time. "You'd better go home. Peacekeepers will be crawling the streets by tomorrow."

I don't, however, and wait for her to come down. There's something I need to tell her, but it's not safe to do it in the house.

"You're still here," she says, thirty seconds later, coming down the stairs.

I walk over to her and pretend to be examining the bark in her hands, while in reality murmuring under my breath.

"Amy and I will still be at our house tonight, but tomorrow we run. Early. Please get Maybelle Waters to help us, the mayor's niece. There's a door to the Underground in the mayor's house. She's smart; she should be able to find it."

Chime's eyes flicker with emotions as I tell her, but she understands, I back off, lifts my twin into my arms, and leaves out the door. Sage follows me. I call over my shoulder, "Thanks, Dr. Perils!"

She never charges until her work is finished. Hopefully by then, the rebellion's started, because there's no way we can pay a bill like that.

It's hard sleeping after that. It's easy for Amy, though, who's already asleep. I just tear off her wet clothes and tuck her in to bed. However, after I change into dry clothes and towel off, I toss and turn in sleep.

If Maybelle can be persuaded - which she should, because I know that she and Chime are friends - then we might have a shot at this. The rebellion.

Dawn brings a knock on the door. I bolt out of bed, only to find Amy already at the door. Peacekeepers can be my only thought.

"No," I whisper, but Amy opens the door anyways.

"It's fine," she says. "It's Chime. And she's got Maybelle."

She must've be half-awake during our conversation with Chime yesterday. How else can she know?

Chime enters through the door, panting. A nervous and twitchy Maybelle follows her.

"They're after us," she says. "I think I lost them halfway but we've got to go. May's agreed to help us."

"How early were you up at?" I ask in amazement. Chime doesn't answer, but states something else instead.

"Maybelle reckons that she knows who eavesdropped on you," she says. I lean forwards, intrigued.

"Who?" I ask.

"Not _who, what," _the mayor's niece answers.

I stare at Maybelle in confusion. "What?"

In answer, Maybelle points a shaky finger at the windowsill, where a small, grey bird pirches, mute. It hops around and flutters out of sight.

"Jabberjays."

* * *

Dun dun dun... JABBERJAYS! I know, they weren't supposed to show up this early in the rebellion, but I couldn't find anywhere else to put it. The story is... well, odd. There's not much exciting stuff in it... I wrote in the summer, back when I was immature! I promise, my next fanfic, Blizzard, will be better.

(I'll continue this one to the end, I guess.)


	6. Chapter 6

Hope that this explains the question about the jabberjays... sort of.

* * *

Chapter Six

At the sight of the grey little bird, my heart freezes.

Jabberjays. Muttations created by the Capitol. We've learned about these in school, and the jabberjay is one of the more famous creations of the Capitol, out of thousands of mutts. Out of all those evolved wasps, cats, wolves, fish, and more, the bird muttation isn't the attack type; it eavesdrops on enemies' conversations. They record them, and fly back to be listened to by the Capitol. Treachery. Having a bird do all their spywork.

But there's also some relief in there. The birds only listen for voice. Remember how I said that Amy and Holly should be twins? Well, they sound so much alike it's possible that the jabberjay misinterpreted Amy's voice for Holly's, which is why the Peacekeepers weren't crawling the streets looking for us. Yesterday, I was so tired and foggy I didn't realize that any talk of rebellion will mean instant death. I've been so stupid.

"I'm an idiot," says Amy softly, which is exactly what I was thinking. "Of course! Rebellion is a death sentence. How can the Peacekeepers sleep in? I..."

"They thought we were Holly," I tell her quietly. Maybelle gives me what seems to be an approving nod. I continue. "When she stormed out, the Peacekeepers must thought she was going to gather more people." I turn to Maybelle. Although the jabberjay had left, who knows if there's more lurking around? So I speak quietly but not quiet enough to arouse suspicion, and I keep off the real subject. "Did Chime tell you?"

She must know that I'm talking about the Underground. Her eyes sparkle. "Yes," she says. I've been expecting a snob, what with a mayor's niece and all, but she doesn't act all snobby and... spoiled. She seems like one of us, only with a full stomach and better dressed. More smart, too.

"The Peacekeepers," says Chime hurriedly. She glances behind her shoulder, but no one's coming. Just the weave of the farmers heading out to work early. No crisp, silver uniforms among the ragged yellow cloth of the villagers, worn with age.

"I've told you already," says Maybelle. "The Peacekeepers aren't after Amy and Aryn. They're after Holly's family."

"Why didn't they just kill them yesterday?" I ask. It's puzzling. Last night would be the perfect opportunity.

"The Peacekeeper who found Holly shot her in the arm to stop her, and went for reinforcements. They want a public hanging."

Public hanging. My heart lurches at the thought. My best friend. I can't do it. Briefly, I remember the Peacekeeper gun Sage had last night... what happened to it?

"We have to save her," I say.

"I know," says Maybelle. Beside her, Chime is bouncing, trying to get her attention, but the smart girl doesn't notice.

"May. Maybelle," she says. "We have to go!"

"If the Peacekeepers wanted them, they would've been here last night," says Maybelle calmly. Chime seems to realize that it's useless, and sighs in defeatance. Maybelle continues talking.

"Yes, we do have to save your friend Holly Millson," she says. "Can you use a weapon?"

"Only a knife," I say grimly. "Unless if you count chucking rocks."

"Rocks are all but extinct in the village," Chime reminds me. "They only exist in the woods, and they're closed off today."

Right. Today's Sunday. Sunday!

"Sundays are hanging days!" I burst out, tears welling in my eyes. "I... what time is it?"

"Five fifty-nine," says Maybelle calmly. I gasp.

A clock tolls somewhere. Six strokes. "Six o'clock," says Maybelle unnecessarily. She puts her pocket watch back inside her pocket.

Six o'clock is the hanging hour. As if by cue, a horn blows. The note for all residents to come to the square, either for a whipping or for a hanging. I know who's the victim, and I have to hurry.

I dash back into the house and grab the knife Amy used to slice the bread yesterday. Just yesterday. It seems so long ago. I stare at the knife for what seems like ages, but Amy's snapping at me and I slip it in my pocket. On my way out I toss Amy her harvesting sickle. Arrogant Capitol; they even give District Eleven sickles to play around with. Shiny and pretty, sparkling dangerously in the Capitol's face.

The air's still damp from the rain yesterday; the pavement wet. Puddles of water are still everywhere, and the leaves from trees above splash water onto our heads. I don't care.

I join the fray of villagers heading to the square. There's so many of them, but even those who live too far away have to walk. I sprint towards the square, Amy hot on my heels. Chime is lagging somewhat behind but Maybelle's walking calmly. Does the girl ever run?

My house is one of the farthest away from the square. I run up, but eventually the crowd gets too thick and I don't want to push around. Me, a puny fourteen-year-old, will only get crushed in the queue.

Chime has caught up with me now, pulling an uncooperating Maybelle. In the din of the crowd, I can only hope that my words are masked.

"Do you know where the Underground door is?" I ask.

She nods. "I was doing gravity experiments by chucking rocks down from the roof. They all disappeared through a strange hole in the ground. When I asked my uncle he said he didn't know. I never thought it led to the Underground."

"How big is it?" I ask, while on my mind thinking how we'll get masses of people through the mayor's house.

"It's like a maze down there," Maybelle says. "I've drawn a map, but from the little I've drawn it's still quite big."

"Big enough to host as headquarters?" I ask. "Jabberjays die without twelve hours of sunlight, right?"

"Yes," says Maybelle. "And yes, to the jabberjay question. I... I do not think that my uncle will agree, although my mother surely will. She ran for the spot of mayor, too. She lost because she was female, and her brother, my uncle, got it instead. She hates the Capitol."

Her last few words were breathed into my ear. Amy glares at me, but she must know that I'll fill her in later.

We try to break through the crowd as soon as possible; talking is just another gift. But soon we must get to the hanging.

They never start until everyone's here, and we're among the last ones. I rush into the square, and try to see above the citizen's heads. Not one of them give way. It's not that they don't want to give up their spot; they do. It's just that the people of District Eleven think that hanging will give nightmares to children.

But I'm not a child anymore, especially not if I'm inciting a rebellion.

"Here we act on an offense of Holly Millson, age fourteen, of District Eleven. Accused of talking about rebellion..." the mayor reads. I don't have to turn around to know that Maybelle can't go on. The sound of her uncle's voice...

At the word rebellion, the people of District Eleven stirs, but one glare of the mayor sends them away. I can't see it, but I know that it's happening.

Finally, I burst through the final citizens and look up at the stage right below the Justice Building. Holly's wrists are bound, she's gagged, and tears have obviously been streaming down her face. Beside her, her parents await, faces fresh with worry.

The Peacekeepers must've taken her away from Dr. Perils, sometime this morning after Chime left. If Chime had known, surely she would tell me. The Peacekeepers she saw this morning were probably heading for Holly's house for the parents.

But I don't have time for thoughts like this. My feet have just started to run, not caring where I step, when the Head Peacekeeper slips the noose around my best friend's neck.

* * *

Night, night, Holly.

...Or is it? MUAHAHAHAHA!


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry for not posting yesterday. My mom shooed me off the computer. Well, I'll give you two today as an apology. :)

_

* * *

Chapter Seven_

There's only one option available to me.

I know it's a risky one, but I can't let Holly die. She's been my lifelong friend. I tug the knife out of my pocket, and, knowing that this has to be an accurate shot, wind back my arm and throw the knife.

Like always, it's dead accurate. It pierces the rope, sticking in the walls of the Justice Building behind it. Immediately, the Peacekeepers are on me.

I can only hope that Holly heard us talking yesterday, about the Underground. She's fast, like me, and she must have the sense to run immediately, disguise herself, and come to the mayor's house.

I turn, grab Amy's hand, and pull her towards Chime and Maybelle. I have no knife, but then there's a tug at my shoulder and I turn to see Sage. His eyes are now flicking more dangerously than ever. He hands me a knife.

"Thank you," I whisper. "Come."

"My siblings," he says. I hesitate for a minute. Mint and Pine can't survive on their own, that's for sure. Well, they'd better come along.

"Get them," I say hurriedly. "We'll meet again at the Garden."

He frowns. It's a risky plan. The Garden is literally right next to the mayor's house, the only beautiful place in District Eleven. It's a maze of tiny flowers, where butterflies and songbirds actually come and make the place feel like home.

"At the Willow?" he asks. The Willow is the tallest of the trees that grow in the Garden. Its branches and leaves tower so much and are so dense no one will be noticed if they climb up.

"Got it," I say. "Sage..."

"What?" he asks.

"Get Holly out of there. And... if you pass any likely recruits, bring them to the Willow too. But go separately; big groups will surely attract Peacekeepers."

I notice the wall of pristine silver uniforms heading towards me, trying to push through the crowd. They're screaming. We can incite a rebellion right now, but one look from Maybelle tells me it's not enough. Peacekeepers have shot warning shots with their gun, and any moment those bullets may land on the citizens. We need more weapons and a plan, an organized one, to do this.

"Go, now," says Sage. As if I needed to me reminded. Sprinting through the crowds, who seem to be making way for me, I dash as fast as I can. Behind me, I can hear the Peacekeepers coming after me. I've literally ditched my friends, but they can be killed if they follow. Chime and Maybelle aren't as fast as Amy and I.

Now don't you wish you've told them your mastermind plan? I think to myself, hating my stupidity, my cockiness. I'm going to die, and no one knows about it! We'll be stuck like this forever!

Still cursing myself, I dash around a corner and into a dark alleyway. The Peacekeepers weren't looking for me this morning, but now they are.

Ahead of me, I see a batch of crates as tall as the buildings and don't hesitate before vaulting myself on. Years of jumping trees has taught me how to do that. I somersault neatly onto the top crate and lift myself onto the roof. I can see a chimney and dive inside without further thoughts.

Tumbling through the brick chimney, I claw at the walls, looking for anything to grab onto, anything. Seams in the brick walls pass by, but I can't hold on to them. After what seems like forever, my feet hit the ground.

It sends blinding pain up my right ankle. You'd think after jumping trees, and yes, falling from trees, has taught me how to land properly, but there's not a lot of space to manueuver my arms and it's dark. My feet had hit the ground too hard and most likely on the wrong angle. I stagger around, trying to find my way out of the blasted chimney, hobbling around on one foot. My fingernails aren't too pretty either; they're caked in blood from my desperate scrabble. My back aches because it had smashed into the wall of the chimney as I landed, and there's a headache pulsing in my head. When I finally locate myself and shove out of the chimney, I can see that I'll be black and blue for a few days.

The only other thing apart from the bruises and my ankle is the long scrape mark up my left arm, which is slowly turning red. I need to get to Chime, and fast. She's the medical one here. Now I'm so glad that we decided to include her in our tiny rebellion. Who else can heal us if we get hurt?

Outside, I can hear the Peacekeepers yelling, asking which way I went. I decide to stay put... for now.

I now wonder why they weren't shooting. Maybe they wanted me alive so I can die a torturous death. Well, no can do. I'm not backing down, and even if they do torture me I'm not letting a single squeak past my lips. No, it's not time for cowering and tears. It's time for bravery, time to stand up strong.

I bear my surroundings. I'm in a rusty living room, where there's a torn cough in front of me. Beside me is the dining room, I guess. A crooked little table with crooked little chairs. The room has a sense of finality inside it from the bare walls, the dust on the tables. Not a single drawing or photo is on the walls, which means this belonged to a poor family. Taking photos cost money. Lots of it. Maybe people might've lived here, but the thick layer of dust tells me that no one has lived here for ages.

And then I notice a sheet of paper, the only thing so out of place in this dark room. Of course, it's covered in dust, too, but I brush it off with my sleeve and turn it over.

The paper's yellow and withered, I can see that. It's also crackled, which means it's gotten wet once. But I'm not caring for those little details. What I'm caring for is what's written on the paper.

Welcome to the Rosalina house.

Rosalina. My father's surname, before he got killed. I look around again, at the tables, the chairs, the places my father would've sat, worked, talked, laughed, cried. I bury my head in my hands, facing the impossible.

This was my father's house.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter Eight_

I stand in a daze, looking around, taking in every detail of the room I'm in. My father would've sat on the couch. He would've ate at the table. He would've lived in this house.

For a brief moment, I can imagine the house, colorful, bright, and cheery, full of signs of life. I can almost hear my grandparents laughing and my father, too, is happy. The couch is brand new again. The old tables and chairs are as good as new, and the fireplace is alight, filling the air with warmness. It smells like home.

But then the image fades away, and I'm left with the empty room, a cemetary of the damned.

I want to leave quickly. The place scares me, and the Peacekeepers are long gone, anyways, believing I had ran down that dark alleyway... Stupid them. But I need something to remind me.

I head into the only other room, a bedroom. The quilts are neatly made, the drawers bare, desktops empty. But there's one thing on the wall.

A child's drawing of a bird.

It's so detailed, so full of color, it seems to leap right off the page. Only one person could've drawn this. My father.

He was an artist of sorts, you see. He will draw the most wonderful pictures and sell them. He paints with berry juice, using a stick. But they were still wonderful. That's how my mother fell in love with him. I quickly reach up, tear the painting off the wall, fold in into my pocket, and head out the door.

I sprint towards the Garden, careful about keeping in the shadows. My mind is racing, about my father, my mother, all those happy times I've spent with them. Life is empty, now. The only thing worth doing is to incite the rebellion, to give the Capitol a piece of our minds.

I barely notice the stands and shops, worn down with age, as I race by. No one looks twice at me. I don't even encounter one Peacekeeper. It seems so dark now, although the sun has just risen. Since this has all started, it's been for barely twelve hours. Can things really pass by this fast?

I push that off my mind and skid to a stop. The Garden is right in front of me, but Peacekeepers can round the empty street any second. There's no place for hiding in the Garden, except in the Willow. It's going to be a straight run under the bright sun, with nothing to hide me but the flowers. If I were two centimeters tall it'd be better, but I'm not. Alright, I'm short for my age, but not short enough for the flowers to conceal me.

I take a deep breath and sprint for the unmistakable figure of the Willow ahead of me. I pour in all my speed, and, panting, approach the giant figure of the willow tree. Without stopping, I jump, skinny fingers clutching tight onto the first branch, and flip myself on.

I'm not safe yet. The leaves don't shield me whatsoever here. I need to get higher. So I pull my exhausted body up the branch, and another, and another. It doesn't end there. The Willow is giant. Huge. Monstrous. Whatever.

My ankle seems to be complaining less now, although my scrape is getting bad. Droplets of blood is oozing out of it; if I don't get to Chime soon...

After pulling myself up about ten branches, I can't go any higher. I know that Sage isn't here yet, because if he heard me rustling, surely he will call out. No, I'll have to wait.

The sun persists in rising across the sky, and soon, even in the shade of the Willow, I'm soaked in sweat. Where is Sage? Surely it wouldn't take him that long to get here...

At noon, I'm ready to go and look for him. There's got to be a good reason on why he's not here. Maybe the Peacekeepers got him. Maybe he's just hiding out somewhere. Either way, he'll be marked as a suspect too, for me talking to him earlier this morning.

I slip down the tree gently, careful not to upset my ankle. It's stopped hurting when I walk, though, so that's one less thing to worry about. My feet have all but decided to start running when the gunshot crackles through the air.

A warning shot.

I'm running before I know it, but then there's a strong hand at my waist, stopping me. I turn around and punch the Peacekeeper in the face, but he grits his teeth and resists it. I lash out, kick out, scream out, but there's no use. This isn't Sage. This is a Peacekeeper.

He twists my head around painfully. I cry out, but I'm stopped at the sight of my friends coming towards me.

Chime. Sage. His siblings, Pine and Mint. But most of all, my sister, Amy.

Each of them have a Peacekeeper at their side.

In my heart, I have that feeling I hate, one I hardly ever get in the first place.

It's the feeling of defeat.

However, there's still the smallest of hope, because there's one person missing...

Maybelle Waters.

* * *

I worship cliffhangers.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine, right on schedule. Woah... over two thousand words. Well, this'll be long, then! Things are a bit unrealistic... hey, I had writer's block.

* * *

Chapter Nine

I have my knife in my pocket, but I don't dare to use it. Better save it. Just the sight of the knife will be enough for the Peacekeepers to pull the trigger.

And that'll be the end of rebellion.

"Why, why, why," says the Peacekeeper holding back a protesting Sage. I can tell that he's pained by this, the sight of helpless little Pine and Mint, who's not struggling at all. Pine's face is full of sorrow that's been there since the day his parents died, and Mint's just trying to keep her tears back. It's Sage who's the spirit here.

"Why what?" Chime asks arrogantly.

"Looks like we'll have a hanging after all," says the Peacekeeper holding me. "Come along."

I don't resist, but I don't try to walk, either. Let him to all the work. Luckily, he pulls me by the right arm, not the left, because I don't think my laceration can handle it. Chime notices the red mark, and her eyes widen. I know that she knows exactly what can help me, but can't use it.

The horn blows again. Those relaxing on a Sunday is puzzled. Another hanging? Could they have caught Holly again...?

Holly! I struggle to get to my feet, but I think my Peacekeeper likes dragging fine. Holly. She's not part of the lot. How could I have forgotten her? She's still in the game! So if her and Maybelle get here fast...

Surely Maybelle has heard this. She must have to get the mayor to sign the excuse note, but that'll be hard. What if the mayor's against the rebellion? But if he agrees, Holly's fast. She can dash to the Head Peacekeeper. Maybelle has to be smart enough to include Holly in the excuse list.

By the time we're at the square, all of us are handcuffed and tied up. With no doubt, this will be a quick hanging. The children of the rebellion, the faces of hope. All gone, but two.

I don't listen for the Head Peacekeeper talking. Funny. Why's he talking? Shouldn't it be the mayor? But soon, the noose is around my neck and I'm being lifted into the air...

Just as the scream begins. Guns are immediately trained on her, the small figure of Holly, note in her hand. She waves it at the Peacekeepers, who fall back, puzzled. I risk one second to glance at the gathering crowd of District Eleven. I know that none of them is enjoying the show. From the looks of these people, one spark can set it aflame. They're dry weeds that fluttering the wind. We're ferocious fire that devours its enemies. They're ready to rebel; all they need is the chance for it.

I direct my attention back to Holly. I'm back on the ground, thankfully, and soon someone's cutting the rope at my neck. I rub it, because it's caused burn marks, and turn around. The Peacekeepers are all shocked. An excuse note from the mayor. It hasn't happened in at least twenty years.

"Get out," the Head Peacekeeper says, shoving me off the stage. I crumple to the ground and Sage lifts me up.

"Lay off her," he says.

The Peacekeeper doesn't say anything, merely storms away. He's embarrassed. I know. The laughingstock of District Eleven.

"Come on," I say. "These people want a rebellion. We'll give them a rebellion."

We spread out, covering more ground. As I flit in and out of streets and corners, I murmur in people's ears, "Mayor's house. Tonight. Don't be too noticed."

They all look at me in confusion so I say, "Rebellion," and they nod, as if understood. And then I'm off to repeat the ritual. Somewhere else in the gigantic District Eleven, my friends, partners, fellows, are doing the same.

That night, we all gather at the mayor's house. I'm the last one to arrive, because I was still out telling people. Miraculously, the mayor has actually agreed with us. Maybelle had talked to him this morning.

"I do want this to be over, Aryn Rosalina," he says, pronouncing my name wrong. I don't care about it anymore. Name is the last thing I care about now. "I've just been playing the crowds... I'm sorry if I treated the citizens strictly, but I had to live, or they'd kick me off."

I pretend I understand, but in my heart I'm just cursing him. Coward. He won't sacrifice himself.

So I push the thought away and turn to Maybelle. "Where's the door?" I ask.

She leads me to the roof, to my great surprise. "The roof?" I ask.

"Yes," she says. "Once I started testing the powers of gravity, by throwing different sized rocks from here. They all disappeared."

"What?" I say, confused.

"Jump," she replies in answer. I stare at her, bemused, sure that she's playing a joke on me, but she isn't.

"You're crazy," I say. "We'll die. I've fallen off a chimney and a tree today. I don't want to add a building to that list."

She shrugs. "I'll go, then," she says, crossing her arms, and jumps off the side of the building. My hand comes up too late, because it's frozen in shock, and I can only stare at her helplessly, as she plummets to the ground...

And disappears. I gasp in shock. But if she can do it, so I can... My fear of heights isn't to be considered now. The rebellion is.

I look behind me, for fears unknown, and jump.

I wonder why we can't fall from there on the ground. Maybe there's not enough force. I don't know. But I'm almost at the bottom, and my feet are going to scream in agony again...

But they're not. I land in a strong cushion of air that breaks my fall, supporting my back as I'm lifted gently up. And then the power decreases slowly as I fall onto the world's softest mattress. I want to sleep now, but I can't. I have a mission to do. So I get to my feet.

Maybelle's there. "I'm going back for more people," she says. "Go forwards and you'll come to a room."

Then she's gone, in a ripple of light. I stare in bemusement but then see the pane of glass separating us. She was simply vaulted upwards. I deflate my fears and keep going to the room Maybelle told me about.

Sure enough, all of them are here. Amy. Holly. Sage. The other Newhearts. Chime. They say hello to me tiredly. A few are even here early, and a bright and happy boy comes up to hug me.

"Hi, Aryn!" he says brightly. "Are we going to paint the Capitol bright pink for doing horrible things to us?"

I stare at him, mouth agape. He can't be older than nine. But I pat his head, and shake him off.

"Come back, Kane," says his parents, who are seated besides Chime, who gives me a huge hug. It's dim in the cave, lit only by a few lanterns on the walls, but it's bright enough to see Chime and her bag of medicine, filled with all sorts of leaves. She fixes up my arm and ties it back. I haven't realized how much it hurt until now.

"It's dark in here," I say. Mint shrugs.

"They don't want to waste the power, but when everyone gets here it'll be bright.

And get here they do. While I wait, I pull the knife Sage had given me from my pocket. I hand it back to him.

"Thanks for the knife," I say. "But I'm okay."

"Keep it," he says softly.

Every time it gets crowded, a few more lanterns light up, showing more of the humongous room. We're all sitting on the floor, but I'm okay with it. Years of sleeping on wooden boards get you used to that.

Everyone looks shaky from their journeys down, but Maybelle looks fine and she's been jumping for dozens of times as an escort. Not a hair out of place. She's a weird girl.

When Maybelle reckons that everyone is here, she flicks a switch. Immediately, all the lights come on and for a moment we're all dazzled by the light. I blink a few times and adjust.

"Hello, District Eleven," says Maybelle timidly, standing up. As if by cue, the people in front shift back a few inches to make room. She nods, but I can tell she's nervous. "We have gathered here to talk of one thing that still matters. Rebellion. It's time to take down the Capitol!"

Cheers arise, but quickly stop, remembering how there can Peacekeepers above us. I wonder what they make of the empty buildings. Maybe they're too stupid to notice, but tomorrow's a Monday. A work day.

"This room is soundproof... Um… Maybe we should let the head of this talk," says Maybelle, flushing red. "Um... Aryn?"

She hastily sits down to the sides again. Everyone who can see me turns towards my way, and those who can't are standing up. I rise shakily.

"My name is Aryn Rosalina," I say in a quivering voice. Everyone is looking at me, holding their breath. I continue in a steadier voice. "My parents were killed in a muttation attack five years ago. I was nine, and so was my sister, Amy." I gesture for Amy to rise. She does so, but one look from me and she talks, too.

"My name is Amy Rosalina. And since they were killed, I've been relying on my older twin sister, Aryn. She brings the berries. I bring the wheat. We've been living like this on a half-full stomach for five years. And all that changed last night with the meeting of a complete stranger."

Sage rises automatically.

"My name is Sage Newheart," he says. "My parents were killed because we were hungry, and my mother wanted to feed us. I've been working hard ever since then, to feed my siblings, Pine and Mint. I've been wanting the Capitol overthrown for years, ever since my parents died a few months ago. My hope was granted by the Rosalina twins, and even more by meeting Chime Perils."

"I am Chime Perils," says Chime in her singsong voice. "I'm the daughter of Dr. Anne Perils, who you might know." Her mother waves somewhere in the crowd. Chime swallows and continues. "I've seen people starve, wounded, or killed. It's enough of that. I treat them every day. So when Aryn asked me to find Maybelle, and get her to help us, I agreed instantly."

Maybelle rises once more, and this time her voice is firm. "I'm Maybelle Waters, the mayor's niece. I've grown up with a full stomach, but seeing all those poor souls on the ground... I know that I will only bring bad reputation to my family, so I had to ignore them. But they're everywhere, begging for food. I can't stand it anymore. So when Holly comes and says that Aryn's about to die, I begged for my uncle to sign the excuse note. I want to thank Holly Millson."

Holly, her arm still wrapped up, stands up, her voice clear and strong. "The Capitol works us like slaves. They starve us. They injure us. They kill us. They control us. But it's time for us to give them a taste of their own medicine. And at first when I heard it, I waved it away, but now, I'm serious. This time is not for the Capitol, but for us! We shall not be the slaves of cruelty! We'd rather die standing strong than live on our knees! We shall break free!"

Holly grins at me. You'd have thought we rehearsed this, but we didn't. Every word is natural. As the eyes land on me again, I speak.

"So with all that behind, this calls for a rebellion!"

The roars of the crowd is deafening as the people of District Eleven clamber to their feet and join into the fray. Yells, cheers, screams, chants of our names echo the Underground. In the midst of it all, Sage Newheart hugs me.

"What?" I ask, surprised.

"You've just made my day," he says.

Still confused, I cock my head at him.

"Well, it had to happen some day, didn't it?" he answers. "And it happened to land on today."

My face must ask my question, because he laughs.

"Aryn," he says softly. "Today's my birthday."

* * *

Finally! A non-cliffhanger chapter!

Note: If you saw any grammar/spelling/whatever mistakes, tell me. Sometimes I don't have time to proofread all of it... I'd rather fix it as soon as possible. Don't be afraid! You're helping me! TELL ME IF THERE IS _ANYTHING _WRONG WITH THE STORY!


	10. Chapter 10

Dun dun dun... Finally, one day is over! Nine chapters equaled one day! Oh well, things will move at a quicker pace here now.

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Chapter Ten_

Well, I had to share my plans sometime. But with jabberjays fluttering around, it's not safe. I know what Maybelle said about the room being soundproof, but what if jabberjays could hear through it? It doesn't matter about being criminals anymore. Our plans matter.

So on an unspoken agreement, Maybelle builds some sort of thing to detect signs of life within two hundred meters of the Underground. Jabberjays are still birds, too, you know. Whenever one's nearby, we feed them false information.

After a few weeks, the jabberjays disappear.

Every day, we send scouts down into the tunnels, lengthening Maybelle's map of the Underground. We've found plenty of food, there. I've wondered about Peacekeepers going down the other door, but Maybelle says that she's ensured it won't happen. She's disabled the door from the mayor's computer. Now the door will never open.

Stupid, idiotic Peacekeepers. So arrogant, they do all the high-tech security when we rebels bring it around. Turn in onto them.

I share my plans. Most people think it's crazy. Some people nodd as if they understand. Amy… well, she just stares at me in shock.

Basically, once we've got the proper things - there are weapons in the Underground, too, really and Sage, Amy, Holly, and I have been teaching people how to work with knives. Pine and Mint, as it turns out, excels in hand-to-hand combat. But anyways - we will storm out and bring the Peacekeepers down. We're the largest district in Panem, and although casualties are very likely, we should be able to bust out of the fence.

Yes, I said fence.

We'll smash the control box that controls the electricity in the fence. Once we do that, Peacekeepers will be easy to take down because their favorite way of killing is smashing people into the electrified fence. Not this time. Once we take down the Peacekeepers, we steal their Map of Panem and journey to the nearest district.

Of course, the Capitol will be after us, but I doubt they can find anything. The people of District Eleven work in trees. Helicopters can't spy people hiding in trees. So we're basically covered until we find a district where they can't jump trees. But that's another matter, another complication to be solved later.

Once we've gathered all thirteen districts we come back to District Eleven, because it will be void of Peacekeepers. In the Underground again, we heal ourselves, feed ourselves, and rest until the inevitable day comes. And when it does, we charge at the Capitol with our full force.

District residents outnumber Capitol Peacekeepers fifty to one.

Should be a piece of cake.

"And how are we going to get the other district residents out?" Chime asks when I reveal my plan.

"There's always woods beyond the fence. We jump over them and attack on the Peacekeepers. Once the district residents realize what we're doing, they'll join in the fight too. Again, they'll be casualties, but we should win."

There's silence for a few minutes as the plan soaks in. "You're asking for one hell of a miracle," Amy says. Murmurs nod assent.

"That's right," I say with confidence. "We're going to work a miracle."

The jabberjays seem to have stopped coming. Once, I had said that we're going to attack the very next day. Thousands of Peacekeepers could be felt in the Underground, feet pounding. They waited all night and all day. Eight days in a row before realizing that it was a false alarm. It's happend quite a few times. But without our food to supply them, they'll starve. Thousands of Peacekeepers can't stay forever. Eventually, they just leave.

On the day before our rebellion starts, I decide to see what's going on outside. Not actually outside, but the screens. Believe it or not, there's actually technology down here.

The mayor's house has plenty of cameras, so Maybelle accesses that and I look around. To my relief, the Garden is unharmed. So is the rest of District Eleven. But what surprises me is the tiny little bird in the Garden, chirping.

"What's that?" Sage asks, coming over to me. Funny. I was just wondering the exact same thing. Certainly no bird I know of; this one is gray and small, wings fluttering above the buds of flowers. However, the other species of birds out there I can recognize...

I pull out my father's drawing of the bird. Now I recognize it. A mockingbird.

I can see it now, fluttering. Along with a jabberjay. For a moment, my mind whizzes into think mode… And I understand what's happened.

The jabberjays were abandoned after our false information, given that they're not accurate. But, they so wanted to live, they mated with female mockingbirds, creating an entirely new species.

I explain that to Sage. "What should we call it?"

He thinks for a minute. "Maybe you should pick. You're the face of rebellion, after all." He smiles at me.

I think for a long while. "Well, tomorrow's the rebellion, so better get this over with," I say finally. "We could be dead within twenty-four hours."

"So what do we call it?" Maybelle asks, not even bothered by my death comment.

I ponder about this for a few seconds. Jabberjays mated with mockingbirds, their genes creating a new species of nature, one that sings in the garden of the dead. Yet… they're a slap in the face to the Capitol, a creature never meant to exist. Mocking the Capitol at every flutter… a jaybird flying high towards freedom… I know its name immediately.

"A mockingjay," I smile.

Tomorrow, the rebellion begins.

* * *

Ze rebellion begins! Tomorrow! In real life! Hopefully...

Please review! Point out every grammar/spelling mistake! I need to improve!


	11. Chapter 11

Just a warning: I've been really busy with school these days, so updates might become slower!

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* * *

Chapter Eleven_

Morning brings excitement through the Underground. It's time for action. Time to bring down the Capitol once and for all.

The plan is simple. Amy leads most of the district to the Peacekeeper Headquarters and while they distract them, Maybelle will lead a separate group of twenty towards the armory, where they help themselves to weapons and destroy the rest. Chime will be leading the way to destroy the Communications Center while Holly will be in charge of disabling the trains. That way, no word will get out that District Eleven needs help. With the antennas down, even the greatest technology cannot overcome it.

And me? I'm going to be leading four other people right into the lion's den. Right into the Peacekeeper's Headquarters. From there, we smash the controls that control the fence, a few locks, doors, gates, etc. The only building that will be left unharmed is the Justice Building, because nothing of worthy is inside it.

Everything has been prepared the previous night. As soon as the first crack of sunlight appears, we head west towards the mountains. The sun will be in the Peacekeeper's eyes while our bodies shield us. At the main road, we split up.

"Good luck," we whisper to one another. Amy holds my hand. At first she tries to say something, but then bursts into tears.

"Stay alive," is all she says. I hug the rest of them, even Sage, and lead my group towards a random house to hide in until the fight starts.

I look at the small, determined faces of my team. Maybelle wanted small but strong fighters. These are rather small. Sage's brother, Pine, is there, along with the twelve-year-old twins, Eden and Cayden, as well as the tiny eleven-year-old, Annica. I've doubted her until she had disarmed me, tripped me, pinned me down and held my own knife at my throat. "Dead," she had said. I never doubted her again.

I can hear the yells, the signs of fighting. I turn to my team.

"We'll give them five minutes. Then we head out. I lead, Pine follows. Cayden and Eden, I don't care which order you go in, pick yourself. Annica brings up the rear." The twins begin arguing quietly immediately.

"I'm going first" Eden finally announces. I nod.

"It's time," I say. "For the districts!"

They echo me quietly and we troop out the door.

Silently, we flit down the empty streets. It seems so weird to be walking down an empty lane, void of human beings. Normally, at this time of the day, the merchants will be getting ready to trade, the workers heading up to the orchards. But no, the streets are empty of life.

We reach the Peacekeepers' Headquarters, and, being dressed in silver uniforms found in the Underground, slip inside unseen. The bigger, stronger, Peacekeepers are too busy gunning people down to notice the five smaller ones burst inside. I can't help but take a look around me. Everyone has a knife, at least, and when the armory people get here we'll have a bigger boost. But then I remember the job at hand and burst inside.

There are tons of doors, but I ignore all of them. The mayor had shown us the plans for the headquarters. The control room is at the topmost floor, the fourth. We sprint up the stairs, passing endless doors, panels, and buttons to press. Finally, we reach the fourth flight.

A single Peacekeeper is there, his silver uniform sleeves rolled up. His fingers are desperately clicking buttons, flipping switches, occasionally glancing up to see the screen. I can see his message.

_From: D. 11_

_To: Cap._

_Subject: Help_

_Message: Citizens rebelling. Cme at 1ce._

My knife enters his skull before he can press the send button. Eden groans a little at the blood, and so do I, really, but I take the knife out. I had acted without thinking. I had killed a person.

The squelching sound the knife makes as it exits his head is disgusting. I feel like passing out, but Annica's there, supporting me. I turn to see Eden with his eyes closed, Cayden rubbing his back, and Pine's just standing there, eyes wide, mouth agape.

"Focus," I say. Annica lets go of me.

"Well, I guess we destroy it now," says Annica. "Where's the control box?"

I point to the bottom of the table. "There. The mayor showed me."

But it's the table that Peacekeeper was sitting at. We all take a step back, except for Annica, who rolls her eyes. She gets down to her knees and stabs the circuits over and over again until sparks leap. She glances up at the screen. Completely blank.

"We should snip a few wires, just in case," I say. "Break everything you can see."

The twins grin at each other and begin hacking away with their knives. I leap nimbly from beam to beam, cutting every wire I can see. Below me, Annica is stabbing her knife over and over again on the screens. Eden and Cayden are making huge cuts in the circuits. Within minutes, the whole place is trashed.

"Ready for the test?" Annica asks. We nod.

Alarms are still blaring everywhere. We've been careful not to cut the alarm wires during our destruction, because it will only alert the Peacekeepers. I think of how the Capitol is foolish, because if an alarm rings, they should be notified. But no, they're not. Otherwise, the Peacekeeper wouldn't be sending the message.

But now that the locks are disabled, we leave out the back door. Immediately, we dash over to fence, hearing for its electrical hum that signifies that it's live.

We find silence.

Trooping back in happiness, we join in the fight. The battle has spread out to all over town, now. Bodies of rebels litter the streets, and I try not to look at their faces. There will be time for mourning later. As I pass, I snatch up their knives. I prefer throwing to actually using them in combat, so it's nice to have a whole array of them ready for use. I clip them to my belt.

Annica has darted off somewhere else to slit throats, so I head towards the opposite direction. Things pass in a blur. At some point, I remember seeing Sage and taking out a Peacekeeper for him. He doesn't even glance my way, simply moves on to the next. Then Holly's by my side, our fingers scraping against each other. Chime, Maybelle, Amy. I see them, which is good. They're alive.

It's not a full arena of duels. It's where you flit in and out, dealing a gash here, a laceration there, taking away a life sometimes. After finding that I've collected at least two dozen knives, I climb onto a roof to start throwing from there. I try not to remember the bodies the knives are from.

Well, I did expect casualties.

My aim is true, as always. The huge, burly Peacekeepers make it easy to identify from the tiny villagers. Each knife must count, and they do.

I don't know when it ended. But one second, I'm throwing knives, and one second, it's all over. We've simply been victorious because of our mass of numbers. Bodies litter the ground. It's almost impossible to walk without tripping over one of them. I slowly slip to the ground from the roof, estimating the number of rebels left. Out of the rough fifty thousand people, there are only about fifteen thousand left.

Rebels are gathering from the village, as if they know I'm here. My friends automatically come to side by me. Amy, my dearest sister, who helped me get through this. Sage, the spirit, the hope of it all. I remember how it was just the three of us... Chime, who fixed Holly's wound, as well as mine and countless others. Maybelle, the brains of this, the mastermind of the plot. And...

Holly!

"Where's Holly?" I blurt out.

"We don't know," says Amy softly, her fingers stroking my back slowly.

I have to find her. Holly, my lifelong best friend. Holly, who gave that amazing speech those few weeks ago. Holly...

And then someone's coming through the crowd. I recognize Annica, her small limbs supporting Holly's back. How can she be so strong? She emerges slowly, almost like stepping from a veil of mist, her feet carefully stepping over dead bodies. I can see Holly now, her eyelids closed, a stream of blood pooling from her chest.

"Holly!" I scream, darting forwards. People immediately make way for me. I'm stepping on the bodies, but I don't care. I just care about reaching my best friend.

Her eyelids flutter open. "Hey, Aryn," she says.

I sigh in relief. I'm just so, so glad that she's alive...

"It's been great knowing you," she says quietly, her words slurred together, eyes beginning to have a dreamy expression.

"Don't go, please," I say, clutching her fingers desperately, her blood soaking into my skin. But I don't care. "The rebellion needs you, Holly. I need you."

"Goodbye, Aryn, Amy, Sage, Chime, Maybelle... All of you guys have been so brave to do this... You have to win this war."

Her eyelids close slowly, and her hand goes limp. Somewhere behind me, a woman's voice wails. It can only be her mother.

People are pressing closer now, trying to see what really happened, but I refuse to let them. Tears are flowing freely down my face as I take Holly in my own arms, and press her cold body to mine. The blood that was once hers has stained her clothes. I look up at the sky, the beautiful sun rising onto a clear blue sky, bringing daylight to the world.

But it feels like I'm trapped in a veil of darkness, where I'm crushed and depressed. My best friend is gone. Gone forever. Holly Millson will never stir again.

We might've won this battle, but we haven't won the war.

* * *

Dun dun dun DUN...


	12. Chapter 12

The words are going up in height! 1,603 words for Chapter Twelve alone! Yay!

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* * *

Chapter Twelve_

Amy's hand finds her way to my neck, and while stroking it, she tries to comfort me. The rebels are tired, and injured, too, and we all want some rest, but there's no chance of that happening. Capitol officials might be showing up any moment now. Who knows if the Peacekeepers have any tricks up their sleeves?

Someone presses something into my hands, sodden with tears. I look up from my hole of sadness into Mint's bright green eyes, just like her brother.

"The rebellion needs you, Aryn," she says quietly. And then she's gone.

I stare after her for a long time, but then Sage is calling me back to the present. I look down to see what Mint had given me.

A roll of paper, tied with a shiny purple bow. The purple seems so out of place, when everyone has at least one injury, blood spilled from open wounds, dying the ground scarlet. I don't untie it, however. That'll be dealt with later.

First, I walk slowly towards the Garden, and step a patch of flowers. Small, beautiful, and brightly colored flowers who had escaped the fight. No one fought there. The Garden is still the only place unharmed by the rebellion.

I know that I must hurry, but I still carefully set Holly down onto the bed of flowers, and cross her arms, hiding the ruptures in her chest. Her clothes are stained red, but that's okay. It's a sign that she was a rebel, that she took down Peacekeepers. A sign that she tried.

I arrange her frozen limbs into a way so that she looks like she might be sleeping peacefully. Away from harm. Away from pain and sorrow. This is the place where she truly belongs.

I rise slowly, my face stained with tears and blood. The sight of my fellow rebels, their cold bodies lying on the ground, is too much for me to bear. I can hear the sobs now, the tears of anguish of their relative's corpses. I choke back my own. Now's not the time. Tonight, I'll have the chance to mourn.

"Everyone," I say, but my voice cracks. I try again with the same result.

"Listen up!" Maybelle hollers. I can see the tear tracks on her face, but she's still strong. She's here for us.

After a few minutes, everyone has quieted down. I glance at the rebels.

"We have lost our people, but we're winning. I'm sorry that you have found the faces of your loved ones among the dead, but we must be strong. For the lives lost. For the dead rebels. We must win this war!"

My fingers undo the purple ribbon, and unroll the scroll. I glance at Mint, wondering what she wanted me to have, but when I open it I gasp.

It's a map of Panem.

"Oh, thank you," I whisper. "Mint, where did you find this?"

She shrugs. "Dunno. Just came upon it."

I locate my district, way down south. The closest district to us is District Four, in a crook by the sea. Vaguely, I say, "We head east," before rolling up the scroll once more and handing it to Mint. She stares at the map.

"Why are you giving it to me?" she asks.

"Because I feel I can trust you," I reply. I must have a horrid expression on my face, so she doesn't question it. Taking the scroll, she runs off to the side to find Pine and Sage.

"The Capitol might be on us any time now," I say. "So it's best that we move quickly." My voice is shaky, but my mind is not. I look over to the group assigned to destroy the armory and to help themselves. "Do you have any axes or such?"

"Better," says one of them almost grimly. He hands over a double-bladed axe, the blade sharp and dangerous. Perfect.

The axe is heavy, but I ignore it. I think of Holly's pain, that wound to the chest. All I need to do is to conjure her bright and happy face to surge new strength into my tired limbs, my sore muscles. When I can't possibly go on to the fence, I simply look back behind me. The determined and fierce faces of the rebels sends adrenaline coursing through me, but it's really the patch of flowers that are now Holly's deathbed.

When I reach the fence, I throw the blade into the fence, cleaving a hole through it. The first time, my arms scream out in pain as the blade leaves my hand, but the second or third time, it feels a little better. Just numb pain at the thought of Holly and all those faces, killed by the Peacekeepers. The Capitol. I struggle not to look at the bloodied bodies, in fear I will recognize someone I know and weep again.

After about ten minutes, I've carved a decent hole in the fence. I turn around and put on my fiercest face possible.

"Who here go the highest in the orchards?" I ask. Those will be our scouts. "Step forwards please."

A few people step forwards. I'm wondering why there isn't more when I realize that we've just fought a war.

"Forget it," I mutter. "Maybelle, what's your plan?"

She stares at me. "Didn't we talk this over, Aryn?" she asks. It takes me a minute to react.

Oh. Right. We're to go about half an hour into the woods. The Capitol will be looking more spread out, thinking that we have a good four or five hours of a head start on them. We'll be safe right there.

"Aryn," says Maybelle, but I cut her off.

"Not now, May. Right now, we head for District Four."

District Four is a bit of a long way, maybe a week's walk. But it's still the closest. From Four, we can loop our way around Panem, eventually ending at the Capitol in the Rocky Mountains. District Twelve will be the real problem, as it's isolated from the rest of the districts.

Yep. I have photographic memory.

But photographic memories remind me of Holly, and my face turns dark again. So I simply step over to the fence and begin to help the injured across. A few other people with minor injuries come over and help me while a few stay on the other side. The moment Sage and Amy come over, my attention goes right to a burn on my sister's leg.

"What happened?" I ask. I haven't noticed it before because it was so far down.

"Rubbed it against a building," she says vaguely. I can sense that there's more to it than she's letting on, but now's not the time to pressure her. I simply nod and turn to Sage.

"I still have your knife, you know," I say. It's true. It's the only knife that wasn't thrown. "Are you sure you don't want it back?"

"It's become much more than a knife now, you know," he says. "It's a good luck charm, and the blood stained on it is now a symbol, a memorial, to the lives lost. That knife is the hope of rebellion, Aryn. When you feel weak, just look at it and you'll stay strong for those who died."

And then he plants a gentle kiss on my forehead. I'm so startled, I stumble backwards into a tree. I'm all right, just dizzy.

I must look like a fool in front of the rebellion. Amy's refusing to look my way, so I just ignore her. My own sister. The events in the past few days have really unsettled me.

Slowly, we transport the injured on a fracture board. They came from all over the town - kitchen tables, old floors, things like that. When one gets bloody, we get a new one. It must be three in the afternoon before we're even finished, and there's no sign of the Capitol helicopters.

Maybelle is getting suspicious. She walks over and talks to me, ever so quietly.

"Don't you think this getting a bit... skeptical?" she asks.

"What?" I ask, annoyed. "The Capitol doesn't know we're here. The Peacekeepers must be all rookies. We destroyed the communication."

"Maybe they received something of note," says Maybelle. For what seems like the first time in her life, she's getting hot-tempered. "Who knows what the Peacekeepers have up their sleeves?"

"The Capitol's not here yet," I say. "They would be here a long time ago if they heard that there's uprisings here. But we still need to hurry."

"That's not my point!" Maybelle cries. "What if there's a trap?"

The fracture board has a splint that's stuck on the fence, so I cross over to unhook it, leaving the board to Maybelle. "There is no trap."

Famous last words. As soon as my leg has crossed back into District Eleven, a new, invisible force field blasts the rest of my body backwards, back into the prison I was born and raised in. I look up in surprise to see the rest of the rebels nervously tapping the field. I wasn't hurt by touching it, just hurt my flying back and landing hard, but the field seems to be some sort of magnet. Like we're both south poles. No matter how hard I push, I can't get to the other side again. There's no wall between District Eleven and the outside, just a force felt by trying to push two magnets of the same poles together. There's no other way to put it. I'm stuck.

"That trap," says Maybelle bleakly.

* * *

Dun dun dun... Yeah, I worship cliffhangers.


	13. Chapter 13

Thought Chapter Twelve was over? Nah. Surprise! It's got 27 chapters!

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* * *

Chapter Thirteen_

Calm, Aryn, I tell myself. Breathe in and out. Inhale. Exhale. Concentrate.

I need to get out of that trap. The force field. No doubt it's just another invention of the Capitol. Force fields can't be created in a second. That means the force field structure was built ages ago, maybe even before the districts were built, and the Capitol has just turned it on. No doubt that the Capitol's plan is to trap me, the mastermind, into District Eleven and then head here. The Peacekeepers must have gotten word to them, and their pesky little cameras... I have about three or four hours before they're onto me.

Briefly I puzzle why there's a fence instead of a force field to keep us in. Wouldn't it be a lot easier with a force field? But then again, the energy it takes to run a field is probably so expensive and power-consuming the Capitol doesn't want to waste all the good money. Well, sucks for them. I'm finding a way around the field.

I pick up the double-bladed axe and hurl it at the force field. It doesn't even reach all the way. As soon as it hits the magnetic part, it bounces right off. No matter how hard I push it, it always repels me back.

I have to face it. I'm stuck.

But at least I can still hear the voices on the other side as the realization dawns on them. Amy's on the opposite side, her shoulder bashing against the field, but she's trapped outside. I'm trapped inside. Either way, the Capitol has us surrounded, front and back.

Pine climbs a tree, hoping to maybe jump over the field. His body swaying on the tiniest of the tiniest branches, his hands find a nut and throw it at the force field. The nut bounces back. "No use," he calls. As if I need to know that.

"No!" Amy cries, still pressing against the force field. "No! I refuse to let this end this way! We've come so far!"

Echoes of other voices bounds off me, crying and calling and yelling. I have a handful of rebels on my side, perhaps twenty. About ten of them are the injured ones. We need to find a way to get around. No control box in District Eleven controls this. To get this, we need to get to the Capitol.

"Underground," I snap. "Now."

Among my group, Chime is the only healer. As she leads the injured towards the Underground, Maybelle stops us with a shout.

"The injured can't possibly go down that way!" she cries. "One of you will have to go down first, and access the entrance from the ground floor. I... Aryn... We'll find a way to get you out."

The others are looking at me, puzzled. I feel like I should explain the plan.

"We're going back into the Underground. Amy, you're in charge. Sage is second-in-command. Mint, you still have the map, right?"

Mint nods, holding the scroll.

"Good. Get to the Capitol. From there, destroy the force field. We'll find another way around. I... I'm proud of you. Everyone. Everyone who has rebelled. We have a decent chance at this. Just... keep going. Rebellion starts now."

I turn away, and wish that I hadn't. Because suddenly, I'm looking under me, a familiar face. I briefly remember the night when that little boy had hugged me, asking if we were going to paint the Capitol bright pink. The face is what used to be his face. Kane.

Suddenly, I am maddened. The Peacekeepers killed the little boy. How old was he? No older than nine. He had a lot of life to live out.

The Capitol will pay for this. Dearly.

**-Amy-**

When Aryn and the rest of the rebels disappear around the corner, I turn to face the rest of the rebels. Luckily, we've gotten so many out, but unluckily, there are so many injured ones I'm afraid we'll die as soon as we hit the woods.

Calm, Amy, I tell myself. Listen up to Maybelle. She's the smart one here.

I take a deep breath, and clap my hands for attention. The rebels are murmuring among themselves, causing assent to rise about the separation of our leader. I glance at Maybelle for support, and she seems to know what I'm about to do, and nods. So I take a deep breath...

"Listen up, people!" I say. I've never been the speech kind of person, but now I'll have to. "We'll go exactly as planned. Half an hour into the woods, we stop and find a nice place with high trees where we won't be noticed. A kind of place like that will be hard to find, but some of the highest foragers can scout around. The Capitol will be here in a few hours, so we need to hurry it up."

It takes a few minutes for the rebels to assemble themselves into a line, but they do it, anyways. This group needs a lot of organizing to do, but that can be dealt with later, when Maybelle has the time. I'm not sure why she's being so distant, but then I catch sight of the mayor.

The mayor. Lying inside the force field, blank eyes staring at me.

I turn my head around, and march into the dangers of the woods. I'm not going back to that graveyard that used to be my home.

**-Aryn-**

Picking my way across the dead bodies is not easy. If there weren't any bodies, I can probably close my eyes and navigate, but there's the danger of tripping. Heck, if the bodies were gone, I wouldn't even have to close my eyes. But I suck it up and try not to look down.

Of course, it doesn't work.

I'm walking along fine, almost to the Garden, when I look at the Willow. Maybe it's because it might be the last time I ever see it again standing. My eyes naturally wander across the garden, across the trees, the soft green grass, the patch of flowers.

A field of flowers is scarlet, dyed over the usual yellow and purple and many violent shades. My breakfast is threatening to make an appearance, so I swallow down my tears and keep going.

"I'm jumping and disabling it from there," I announce. The mayor's house, amazingly, escaped the attack and apart from a few dents and scratches here and there, it's still intact. I leap up the flights onto the roof, no longer caring about the house and who lives in it, just shoving anything out of my way. I jump onto the landing and leap straight down.

The feeling in my stomach doesn't help when my eyes look at the field of flowers again. Holly Millson, a victim of the war. There she lies, surrounded by flowers, the most beautiful place I can think of.

Goodbye, Holly, I think as I hurtle straight down. Then the darkness is swallowing me, erasing the final image of my best friend from my mind.

I grope around the darkness for a while. There was no air cushion to break my fall, so I landed on the mattress instead. The fall nearly knocks the wind out of my lungs, but I stagger around for a bit and recovers. It's not like I haven't fallen off a tree before. But it still takes me a minute to find the control station and activate the air cushions.

I also find the button that disables the need for dropping off a roof and simply stepping through on the ground floor. Maybelle says that to penetrate the field, you need weight for that, weigh and speed. Simply stepping down won't break through. But I disable it anyways.

A sudden thought strikes me. Is it possible that there's still one live Peacekeeper in the town? I've been so stupid not to check, but it's so simple to play dead and we ignore them, treating them as another one of the perished, another life lost. I take a deep breath, trying not to jinx our chances.

Our odds are low enough as they are.

* * *

So now, in case if you were confused, when you see someone's name in bold and in the center it means that I'm switching Point Of Views. Of course, I'll have to switch back to Amy. How am I supposed to write a rebellion when Aryn is stuck back in that heap they call District Eleven?


	14. Chapter 14

Short chapter. Yawn... it's almost midnight and I'm getting tired. Oh well, today's Saturday. Who sleeps early on Saturday?

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* * *

Chapter Fourteen_

**-Amy-**

The trip to District Four is uneventful. No Capitol helicopters come and chase us down, which I find suspicious. Maybelle spends all her time studying the map, cutting calculations in the mud, and staring at the sky.

The Capitol isn't harassing us, which is strange. Wouldn't they track down and kill an escaped district immediately? Or are they still trying to trap Aryn, stuck back in District Eleven, trying to scrape by?

That erases all doubts in my mind. If the Capitol thinks we're unimportant, then fine by me. We'll see how they think when millions of us march up to the Capitol and pound their doors off. We'll have a very sweet time calling revenge upon the wretched city.

But first, we must get the residents to help us.

Time is senseless to me. All I do is to keep trudging ahead. Forage and pass around fruits when we come to a patch of it. Take a break. Keep walking. Every day it's the same. I don't know anything, because I'm just following Maybelle and Sage, who are leading. I have no sense of direction, because my compass is Aryn. She's gone in District Eleven, leaving me here in the middle of the woods, my only joy gone. The only thing that keeps me going is the thought of her.

But even my hopes cannot last forever.

On the morning of who-knows-what-day, Sage turns back towards us. "Stop," he whispers. "Be very quiet."

The message is passed down, and within minutes it's so quiet you can hear a pin drop, yet everyone wields a knife. I grip my own very tightly. The time is near.

Slowly, we creep throughout the woods, and immediately, I spot trouble.

I'm an idiot. I know that. Of course the Capitol wouldn't be wasting their men and firearms on tracking us. They'll be spread out at the districts, "guarding" them more than ever. Even from here, in the dim light, I can see that Peacekeepers literally encircle the district. Where did they get all these men from? Did they know we'll go for District Four? I don't know.

"How do we get in?" I hiss. Rebels are pushing against me, trying to see why we're not moving. I shoot them a glare and they back off.

"Well, they're not stupid, you know," says Maybelle airily, waving at the general direction of the village.

"What?" I demand. "Explain." If Maybelle has a plan, better listen to her than stick with my own. I'm not Aryn.

"They'll know something is up. Tension has become too tight. The whole district is under lockdown, or it seems like it. The only times it actually happens is when danger is outside... danger for the Peacekeepers, at least. It means a spark of hope for the district residents. All we need is to get inside, inform them of this, and assist them for the fight."

"How?" I whisper. Her idea makes sense, at least.

"We get through the water, of course," says Sage in a tone that makes me sound like an idiot. He points towards the ocean, sparkling blue. We're quite close to it.

"I can't swim," I say very quietly. Of course, the water. The only place left unguarded, because no one will be foolish enough to venture out there alone. Idiotic, arrogant Capitol. It'll blow up in their faces, the entire thing. But it's funny, really, because this whole thing depends on if people can swim or not.

"I can."

I look behind me to see who's talking. A young boy, no older than thirteen. I don't recognize him, but then... reality strikes in.

"Pine," I say very quietly.

"Yes, I'm Pine," he says. "I... I can swim. A little. Enough to get me to shore."

"No," says Sage protectively. "I'll go. Pine... you're thirteen. Way to young to risk your life."

"It's not my life I'm risking," says Pine smoothly, removing his shirt. "It's the entire life of the rebellion. If we talk any louder, by the way, the Peacekeepers are going to attack, and poof, just like that, we're gone. Now move out of the way, Sage."

Sage hesitates, but takes a step back. Pine strides through the woods like he owns it, yet making no sound. His shirt and pants are camouflaged well, and the Peacekeepers don't notice. They're probably so bored of watching nothingness for days and their eyes are playing tricks on them. Sucks for them, I suppose.

Pine enters the water smoothly, not making a splash. And then he's underwater, but a small ripple sounds out. I wince, and immediately a few dozen Peacekeeper eyes snap a look at the water, but I suppose they think it's just fish, because they go back to watching the woods. My heart is beating so frantically I think it might burst out, and walk over to the Peacekeepers, and ruin the entire thing.

Stop it, I tell myself.

I stop.

It's not long before the fight begins. I don't know when; I'm just distracted in my own thoughts, but it's quite obvious that when the yelling starts, the fight begins. Immediately, the Peacekeepers dart out of sight to join the fight.

"Now," I say, nodding. Immediately, a burly man tosses an axe at the fence. It wobbles, and collapses. I refuse to let Sage and Maybelle lead; I leap straight through the hole and come out in battle mode.

The shouts of the rebellion echoes around me as the fight for District Four begins again.

* * *

Dun dun dun... at your best hope, the next chapter will be out in 12-24 hours, hopefully, if I bother to put it on. Again, if you find any (and I mean ANY) errors in it tell me at once and I'll fix it. My eyes aren't working today. And my brain is frozen.


	15. Chapter 15

_Chapter Fifteen_

It's the same like that every day. Tromp through the woods. Destroy the Peacekeepers. "Hire" another district. I keep wondering why the Capitol helicopters don't even bother to bomb us. And then I realize.

The Capitol needs us.

I nearly laugh out loud at that one. Of course, we're their slaves. We grow the food, we make their houses, we give them coal. If they've eliminated all of us, then they'll be nothing left. They hope to capture us, and force us back to the districts.

Well, by the minute, Peacekeepers are loading into the districts. After obtaining Districts Eleven, Four, Seven, and Eight, we have arrived at District Ten.

It's full to the brim with pristine silver Peacekeeper uniforms.

"There is no way we can get past that," Sage murmurs. Our army has increased by a lot, but the Peacekeepers outnumber us two to one.

"We have to split up," Maybelle orders. "A small group heads for the Capitol, maybe a hundred or so. We wait out here until they get there - which shouldn't be far. District Ten is among the closest to the Capitol, maybe a few days' walk. The moment they get there, the Capitol will think they're scouts and we've gone ahead to take over the Capitol. The Peacekeepers go away, and boom, we've got ourselves another district."

There's silence as Maybelle shares her plans. A babble of protest starts up. I glance nervously at the fence, which lies half a mile away.

Silly me, I know.

"Stop it!" Maybelle shouts. Immediately the voices die down. Even the newcomers know our rules, for we go over knife practice and all over dinner.

"This will be a suicidal group," says Sage. "You know that perfectly well. The group going to the Capitol is bound to get killed."

"I volunteer for it," says a small boy at my ankle. I start. He... he can't be more than eleven.

"You've got a lot of life to live out," I say quietly to him.

"No," he says, shaking his head miserably. "I have a disease... the doctors won't tell me what, but they say it'll kill me in a few months. I'll be no help fighting. At least... at least I can go down a hero."

"In a few months, we could be taking over the Capitol," I tell him softly. "You'll feel proud that you participated in the rebellion."

He shakes his head. "No. I'll be ashamed that I haven't tried."

For once, I'm out of words. It's true. How can a boy that small kill someone? I bite my lower lip. "What district are you from?"

"Seven," he says.

"How old are you?"

"Ten."

I sigh. "If your parents are okay with it, you can go."

I walk away without looking back.

Slowly, a group is organized. I can't look at their faces, but I know that I must. I tip each of their young faces up, looking into their eyes, as if feeding my bravery into them. Well, it's not working. I've got so much nervousness in my heart my knees keep knocking against each other.

Slow breaths, I tell myself.

I know it's utterly hopeless.

Sage scratches a copy of the map onto a large leaf, and hands it mutely to one of the boys. To his great relief, his younger siblings hadn't volunteered, but he knew that they were dying to. However, even he cannot bear the loss of a hundred young children.

It's quiet that evening. The loss of a hundred seems to impact the whole crowd. No one utters a single word. I've decided that risking a campfire wouldn't be great, so close to District Ten's borders, for the smoke will launch half a million Peacekeepers onto us. So we suck it out and eat the berries and plants.

It goes like that every day. Every day, wake up and get dressed. District Eleven's scouts go further and further into the trees by the day, to strip the trees of their fruit, to tear the branches of their leaves, to raid the nuts from the ground. By the morning of the fourth day, we are desperate.

What if the scouts were lost?

What if the scouts were killed?

What if... what if...

The silence has become unbearable, but when they drag Mint Newheart's dead body from the forest, the silence seems like a much safer climate.

"I'm sorry, Sage!" cries Pine, holding his brother's arms tight. "I tried to save her. I really did. The tracker jackers got there first..."

Tracker jackers. Muttations of wasps, specifically targeted to sting a single person. Once they've got the scent, they never give up. Mint, so young, how many stings did it take to bring her down? One?

Sage doesn't say anything, merely turns away. We leave him alone, but that night, I can hear him crying.

Mint. Kane. Holly. Other various rebels. How many others will die from this madness the Capitol created?

There's nothing more to do than to simply go forwards.

Finally, midnight of the fifth day, at least two hundred helicopters fly overhead, land in the district, and two minutes later, take off again. I grimace.

After days of dying for action, this suddenly seems all wrong. But I cannot turn back. Not now. Not when so many lives were lost.

"Go!" I shout. Two hundred helicopters, each carrying approximately two hundred and fifty Peacekeepers... I calculate it in my head. Fifty thousand gone. That'll make the job a lot easier.

We run in an organized fashion. Sage hurls the axe at the fence, three times, and we jump inside through the hole.

The battle happens again. I don't feel like describing it, because I don't want to state how many lives I've killed. Aryn would have no problem with it. That I know. But I'm not Aryn. I am Amy Rosalina. I might be Aryn's twin, but I am so different.

The first rim of the sun has risen above the treetops when it happens. The nightmare, the thing I will never forget about.

I hear a commotion behind me. Without thinking, I take my knife and hurl it behind me. The knife sticks.

Into the heart of Maybelle Waters.

* * *

Oh, joy. The cliffhangers are back! *confetti flies*


	16. Chapter 16

Short one. No big leap in the story, but hey, it's a chapter.

_

* * *

Chapter Sixteen_

My scream comes out before I can hold it. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I wail, but I must be dreaming. The knife has punctured the heart. A fatal hit. No one can heal this. Not even the Capitol.

Maybelle. The leader of all this, the brains. The rebellion can't exist without her. Maybelle Waters, sweet, little Maybelle Waters, who has the charm anyone can know of. She… she just can't be gone!

My fault. All my fault. Why didn't I turn around and look? Suddenly, I am Aryn, so rash and never thinks twice. I could've looked. I could've. I _should've. _I… I'm useless at this.

The tears burst out without warning, and I grab Maybelle by the shoulders and gently lie her down. The blood's coming out like a fountain now, and the light in Maybelle's eyes are fading away. Fading, to be gone forever. Never to come back again. I can't accept that.

"No, don't leave us," I say desperately. "I… we can still need you! Don't go! Please!"

"It's time…" Maybelle's eyes are a million miles away. Her voice is raspy.

"It's time for you to be safe," I say. "Don't close your eyes. Please."

Being Maybelle, of course she doesn't listen. Her eyes flutter closed and she utters one more sentence.

"It's not your fault."

I hold her hand as the life drains out of her. Her body goes cold as she breathes her last breath.

I want to run away. Away from the horrors. Back through time when this never happened. But I have to be strong. For Holly. For Mint. For Maybelle. Too many people have died. I can't back up now.

I have to stand up strong for Maybelle.

Slowly, I gather her dead body and walk back towards the group.

The cries, the screams, and the shouts of the weary rebels are deafening as they see Maybelle's broken body. My tears are coming down freely now, soaking into the newest victim of the Capitol's blood-filled shirt. But I still keep going, towards the row of the dead. Slowly and carefully, I put her down. Placing her arms beside her, palms down. Arranging her legs. Taking off my jacket and putting it on her, before my meal makes an appearance. It's better to not look at the wound; it's almost as if Maybelle has simply fallen asleep.

But she's not, and she never will be.

Someone will have to pay for this.

"Who killed her?" Sage comes storming up to me, cheeks flushed red, eyes wide and dangerous. I feel like a toothpick compared to him.

"I… I did," I say, and it all floods out. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I thought… I thought that she was a Peacekeeper. I didn't react. I… After all these days, I've learned that if you don't react, you're dead. I'm sorry… I'm sorry… It's all my fault."

Sage doesn't say anything, merely stomps off. He's mad at me. I know. I would be too if I just heard what happened. Heck, if Sage told me that he k… k… killed Maybelle, I would kill him on the spot.

_It's all my fault,_ I think. District Eight has been secured, but what was the cost?

* * *

Aaaaaaand cut!


	17. Chapter 17

Okay. Information goes wrong in this chapter.

When I wrote this, I didn't read Mockingjay yet. So of course, I didn't know that District Two was the tightest with the Capitol (but knowing Cato and Enobaria, I should've guessed), not One. Well... when you finish, please, instead of flaming the story, read what it says at the bottom. And then flame it.

_

* * *

Chapter Seventeen_

The loss of Maybelle haunts us all.

Especially me. The murderer.

The rebels must hate me.

Sage and I can barely speak to one another. Which is sad, because there are only two of us left. Two of us to speak for the rebellion. The two leaders of a brighter future.

The future isn't so bright when we are at a standstill.

"Where to next?" Sage asks abruptly. He doesn't even look me in the eye. The rebels don't question it; they all know of what happened with Maybelle. Funny thing is, they're not blaming me.

They very well should.

"District One," I say, averting my gaze from his swollen face. When I had examined his bruises earlier, he had snapped at me, brushing me out of his way, claiming that "I'm fine! Leave me alone, you dimwit!"

Onto District One we go.

The trip isn't eventful. Sage guides us through the wild forests. Little talk goes on between the rebels, the occasional murmurs are about "pass the berries" or "going out to hunt". I feel horrible. The hollow feeling inside me has expanded, and probably everyone in the rebellion, too. The loss of Maybelle is like the loss of a hundred children. Maybe the loss of a thousand children. It's almost as if the rebellion doesn't exist without her.

But it must.

The moment we get to District One, we all breathe a sigh of relief. District One is very close to District Eight. Over the past three days, we've hiked over, and apparently half of the Peacekeepers are still at the Capitol, waiting for our charge. Well, it'll be at District One, not the artificial city. I give our crew one and a half hours to prepare. To nap, snack, fight, stretch, whatever. Just don't make too much noise and don't fight with other people. We steer clear of the fence all the same – about a mile off. Even birds fluttering away from us can't be too noticeable that far away.

I nod at Sage. Although we've been icily cold to each other, no sense in not cooperating now. The real enemy is the Capitol, not each other. We've just been a distraction to each other.

He hurls the axe, glinting in the sunlight. It's because of that axe that has helped us. Without it, we are nothing.

The electrical current flashes through the metal. Once it has died down, Sage picks it up and hurls it once more. The Peacekeepers are already ready, gunning shots into the crowd. I silently count the deaths. One, two, three. Then I vault myself into District One, missing death by an inch.

Ten others surround me, as procedure follows. The sick, the injured, those who will give their lives for me. I didn't want it, but they did. Now I see them falling… my grief is big. One of the fallen girls was Annica Paiton.

The girl who had assisted me.

I wipe that thought away. Now isn't the time.

Now that I am in, I dive for cover. When I hear the gunshots ringing, my mind whirls in different directions. What just happened? There are too many shots – it's almost as if someone's firing them repeatedly. There isn't a single second of silence.

Slowly, I peek over the top of the garbage bin I'm hiding behind. What I see nearly makes me faint.

Peacekeepers are pouring out of abandoned buildings, manhole covers, and rooftops.

Huh. So they've been lying in wait for us. We've just walked into the lion's den.

But what surprises me the most is not the mass amount of Peacekeepers storming in, the falling dead. It's what stands behind the wall of silver uniforms.

Rows and rows of… civilians, each standing with a weapon. Knives. Swords. Bows and arrows. Spears. Even cooking pots.

My mind turns in a million directions. It takes a few seconds for everything to settle in… the civilians aren't bringing down Peacekeepers. They're bringing down the rebels.

I gasp.

The people of District One are traitors.

* * *

ALRIGHT, PEOPLE. HOLD UP A SECOND.

I know. District One = Good. District Two = Bad. But like I said, this was written BEFORE I read Mockingjay, so obviously there are factual mistakes in there. But if you think about it... District One COULD betray the rebels. Except they didn't go so tight with the Capitol. Well, what really happened during the Dark Days is a mystery. Even District One...


	18. Chapter 18

_Chapter Eighteen_

_Traitors_. That's the first thing that comes into my mind.

Well, not traitors. But these people… why would they not fight the Capitol?

Because they live like the Capitol, I automatically think. They're arrogant pigs.

Of course they're arrogant pigs. All I need to do is to peer into their village. Shiny walls, crystal clear windows, not a single misplaced leaf, it's a smaller version of the Capitol.

District One makes luxury products for the Capitol. No wonder. It's nothing like District Eleven – we don't get the food we plant. Here, it seems like they make most of the things for themselves!

Of course they don't fight. They're the Capitol's lapdogs.

I grit my teeth in frustration. How will we win this one, then?

The answer comes when the world blows up.

Bombs. They come by the dozen, impacting craters into the beautiful square of District Eleven. Smoking ruins go up in flames. Yells are heard all over the place as citizens, rebels, and Peacekeepers alike dive for coverage. There are no more gunshots now; only the screams of the fallen.

What is going on? I spend the next ten minutes hiding in the garbage bin, not daring to peek out. It's not an ideal spot, but I'm not running back out there. Not in the inferno.

But I have to get out of there sometime. So when the explosions seem to shorten out a bit, I jump out and dash. The smoke engulfs me, forcing me to the ground. My cheek hits the ground painfully, but at least there's air here. Smoke goes up. There's always fresh air at the bottom, Aryn has always told me. Fires are frequent in District Eleven – and I can only hope that the rest of the rebels are safe.

Coughing, I inch my way forwards. I've no idea where to go. I'm simply a fragile girl, caught in the storms of the Capitol…

The Capitol.

No way these are the Capitol's bombs. They wouldn't be so stupid and destroy so many people at once. They would lose thousands – perhaps millions – of Peacekeepers, and half the districts as well. So who would be stupid enough to do this?

Not someone on our side, for sure. They wouldn't blow up thousands of rebels. Not someone on the other side, either…

Could it be a new enemy?

I risk a glance up, hoping to see where the bombs are coming from. They seem quieter now, so I assume that they've ran out of bombs. But what I see makes me ponder. Through my fuzzy mind, it takes a while for everything to settle in. Eventually, it does.

I'm looking into the linings of a silver Peacekeeper uniform.

I dive for cover, but obviously, it doesn't work. The Peacekeeper lets out a cry of triumph and picks me up by the scruff of my neck. Like a kitten.

A very dangerous kitten.

Instinctively, I lash out, but he catches hold my legs with his other hand. I try to punch him, but he doesn't feel my tiny fists against his skin. I could go for my knife, I suppose, but then I see the gleaming gun in his belt. Of course, they want me alive. Even in my state of mind, I know that if I arm myself, then he shoots me. Simple as that.

Not so simple when the Peacekeeper lets out a gargled scream and drops me. I cry out, and my back hits the floor painfully. It feels like fire is crawling up my neck… when I realize that it is.

Roll over, I think. That'll stop the fire.

But no, the entire ground is on fire. I just twist my neck over again and again when the Peacekeeper picks me up again.

Right. I'd totally forgotten about him. But this feel… it's different. The hand holding me is softer. Gentler. Through the smoke, I can't make out more than a pair of sharp black eyes, but I can clearly see that my new kidnapper's clothes aren't silver. I think dark green. Camouflage suits.

This isn't the Capitol's men.

"Who're you?" I stammer out. Immediately, I regret it. My mouth fills with smoke. I cough.

"Calm, Amy," says the man sweetly, and injects something into my arm. Immediately, the world goes black.

When I come to, I'm groggy all over. Everywhere hurts. My feet, my legs, my stomach, my hands, my arms, and oh, my neck. I can hear someone talking…

"Let's just get this over with. She's lucky to be alive," says a voice. I recognize it as my supposed kidnapper.

Lucky to be alive. Are these the good guys or the bad guys? Good cops, bad cops?

"She has to live through it," says a weak voice. With a start, I open my eyes. The voice is Sage's.

"Sage. What's going on?" I blurt out. Immediately, a wave of nausea washes over me and my neck screams in pain. I'm in a dazzling white room with blinding lights that hangs overhead. Sage and a burly man who must be my savior/kidnapper sits peering at me.

"Lie down," the man orders. When I don't move, he roars. "Lie down!"

"Lie down," says Sage calmly. Slowly, I do. I trust Sage with my life. It occurs to me that the man is just manipulating him, or this is some sort of a trap, but the dizziness stops as soon as my head is parallel with the floor. It helps, at least.

"What's going on?" I demand. The nightmares of last night, or maybe even a few hours ago, descends upon me. Fire. District One in smokes. "The citizens," I whisper. "We have to get them out. Maybe we can get them to be on our side. Those… those traitors…"

"There's no doing that," says the man coldly. "Aryn Rosalina, the people of District Eleven are dead."

The shock hits me like a giant shoving me back. Dead. Thousands of rebels lost. Is it good for us, or bad for us? It could've meant more soldiers, but it could also mean a few thousand more to face.

"Did we do the right thing?" I whisper sadly.

"Yes, we did," says Sage immediately. "You've made mistakes… I … I suppose I would've reacted in the way you would've reacted."

Maybelle.

I take this as an apology. It hardly ever comes from Sage's mouth. He has the right to be mad at me, though. Over the past few days, he's lost his sister, Mint. He's lost Maybelle, his new best friend. This gives me the impression that Maybelle was more than a friend to Sage. She was something much more than that.

"It's alright," I say quietly, hoping this will represent what I wanted to say.

"So…" the man clears his throat. Before he can begin, though, I cut him off.

"Who are you?" I demand angrily. "I want to know what's happened."

No more nice Amy Rosalina. This is the fierce Amy Rosalina.

"You're in one of the only surviving buildings of District One," says the man. "My name is Felia Reynolds."

"Felia?" I ask. "It sounds like a girl's name."

"Be quiet, you," snarls Felia, cheeks flushing red. "Anyways, you have severe second-degree burns on both of your legs, your left arm, the right side of your cheek…"

The latter is all just a drone to me. I tune him out until he stops speaking.

"Well, what are my chances of staying alive?" I ask. Now that I look closely, Sage has several cuts on his arms and cheek. He simply shakes his head when he notices me looking.

"Next to zero," Felia says grimly. There's silence for a while.

"How long do I have?" I ask.

"Two weeks. Give or take."

The news comes down on me hard. No way. I have a rebellion to incite. No way. I can't die. No way. There's absolutely no way.

"Anything you can do to improve my chances?" I ask.

"We need a proper medical lab. We might have to do surgery on your broken leg." So that's why my leg hurts like crazy. "That's something the most accomplished surgeons can do."

"Well, are you?" I ask impatiently. Then I realize that I'm missing the main factor here. "Who are you guys? Where are you from? Why did you come all the way here and bombard us with those bombs? If you're on our side, then you've nearly killed the leader! Thousands of rebels, too!"

Felia's silence gives me time to calm down. He did the right thing. We stood no chance against Peacekeepers. It was going to be a massacre whether we liked it or not.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I… I'm just mad. Please. Can you tell me where you guys are from? The Capitol?"

"No," says Felia. "Why would the Capitol want to bring down themselves?"

He's got a point. I hesitate, and then realize the answer. Bombs only one district develops that. That along with many other weapons, including nuclear weapons…

Sage doesn't have to do anything but to point out a shabby window. Outside is a parked helicopter.

Scrawled onto its sides are the words _DISTRICT THIRTEEN._

_

* * *

_Bam! District Thirteen comes into play!


	19. Chapter 19

_Chapter Nineteen_

District Thirteen. How have they noticed the rebellion? How? Did they go District Four and turned onto their Peacekeepers? District Thirteen makes nuclear weapons. They must've blown up their entire district…

"Tension was growing," says Felia quietly. "Supplies of fish, paper, and food didn't come in. Peacekeeper amounts were quadrupled. We were slowly starving to death. We knew that the only reason why District Eleven wouldn't produce was because that there was no one there to plant it. The Capitol wouldn't be that stupid and stop you guys from working altogether. We decided that it meant a rebellion."

"How'd you find us?" I ask.

"We tracked your progress. Food was the first to go – we just lived on weeds and canned foods. Seafood went next. Our mayor dug up an old map of Panem and we lined your progress."

I think of the map Mint had. Did she lose it when she died? I had given it to her, after all. No, I'm sure that the night she died, Sage was clutching it in his fingers.

"The closest district to Ten is… was… One," Felia answers. "We know of District One's closeness to the Capitol. Over the past forty-nine and a half years, they've developed quite a strong passion for each other. They're like best friends, now. We predicted that they would betray you. So here we are."

I nod slowly, trying to bring in the facts.

"Where are the rest of your leaders?" Felia asks softly. Soft. Not his strong suit, although I've only met him for a grand total of ten minutes.

Sage shakes his head gently, telling him not to go on. Felia doesn't see it, but if he does, he ignores it. "Well?" he asks.

"It started out with six of us," I say bitterly. For some reason, I'm not scared. I feel fine with recounting the details to him. Maybe it's because it's already happened. There are no surprises. "Me. My sister, Aryn Rosalina. Her best friend, Holly Millson. Sage Newheart… whom you already know. Chime Perils, the doctor's daughter. Then… Maybelle Waters. The mastermind."

Maybelle's name is a bit hard to get out. After all, I am the murderer. The killer.

"Where are they?" Felia insists.

"Aryn and Chime got locked back in District Eleven. They're safe in the Underground, but still there. Holly was killed in District Eleven's battle for freedom. Maybelle… She was killed… killed… she was was killed in District Ten." Despite what I had said earlier, tears are pouring out of my eyes now. "I… I killed her. I didn't mean to. It was an accident. I… you must hate me."

Sobs are engulfing my body now, and I'm getting a loud case of the hiccups. I can't move my head, my eyes. I can't talk. It hurts to even blink. Finally, I simply close my eyes and doze off. The last thing I hear is Sage's voice next to my ear, murmuring, "Felia has a plan to get them out."

This reassures me a little, and I drift off into the vortex of infinity.

When I open my eyes again, my vision is distorted. Huh. No surprise there, really. But when I can see, I'm in a different room.

"How do we get them – Aryn – out?" I ask immediately, ignoring the blinding pain on my body. Especially my legs. I know I can't last much longer.

"Ah. So you've heard," says Felia, unsmiling. Beside him is another woman, with the identical features as him. Black eyes, black hair, ghostly white skin. Felia notices me staring and gestures, "Yeah, that's my sister, Clarity."

"You can call me Clare," says Clarity stiffly.

"No, I'll stick with Clarity," I reply. I feel like being annoying. I don't know why. But that moment snaps off when I realize Sage holding a rather large black box… with a very large red button.

"He wanted to wait for you to wake up," says Felia. "Wouldn't press it without you watching. Actually, he wanted you to press it."

"What does it do?" I ask suspiciously, eyeing the red button. Red buttons only mean one thing: something very good, or something very bad.

"It destroys the force field," says Clarity. "We retrieved it from the Head Peacekeeper, the man who found you."

So that's the person who found me.

Excitement bubbles up into me. "So Aryn and Chime and get out?" I ask, but I'm skeptical.

"That's the plan," says Clare energetically. "Who shall do it?"

Sage and I look each other in the eye. Despite our past arguments and fights, we've been through a lot together. We do this together.

"On three," I say.

"One," he says.

"Two," I reply.

"Three!"

We press down on the button.

**-Aryn-**

The crackling reaches my ears before I can see what's going on.

District Eleven is still a corpse town. Chime and I haven't bothered to remove the bodies, fearing that we will see our friends among them. Of course, we know who's dead, starting from Chime's friend, Kate. But now, when I hear the crackle, I know something is up.

It can't be the Capitol. Their helicopters are silent, the bombs whistling quietly through the air. They won't give that big of an advantage for us. Even though they've abandoned District Eleven a few weeks back, when they couldn't get to the Underground (layers of reinforced steel and other security devices prevent tunneling, bombing, and the Capitol's stuff), they can't develop a new weapon to get to the Underground. They built it themselves, and made it indestructible. That is, if they didn't lie.

I'm standing in the Garden, bringing a new batch of flowers to Holly's grave. The rebellion must be working, because the Capitol haven't bothered us for weeks. They must be spending their forces elsewhere; twenty rebels wouldn't make much of a difference. But a rebel with hearts of hate is worth a thousand men. That person is me.

"Thank you, Holly," I whisper to the ground. She must be down there, turning to bone and ash this instant. But I set down a batch of holly branches and roses, and dart off to find the source of the crackling.

Chime has gotten up, too, with another rebel named Blace. He's sprinting towards me now, feet pounding away on the beautiful grass. I recognize Blace Yearlings from school. Two years younger, yet the fastest in District Eleven. Next to the Peacekeepers, of course.

"What's going on?" I demand. Blace wouldn't sprint if he doesn't know information.

"The force field!" he cries. "It's gone! I heard it coming, so I pressed against the fence, seeing what's going on. Then I realized – there's no force field! I even stepped through the hole!"

"It could be a trap, Blace," I say worriedly.

"Yes, but at least it's better than here," Chime argues. It's true. Our supplies of food has been decreasing dramatically. Weeks of feeding District Eleven has taken its toll. We can forage for food in the woods.

"Where do we even go?" I ask worriedly.

"The Capitol," says Chime immediately. "We know where it is, right? So all we do is to wait for Amy, Maybelle, Sage, and… the rest of them."

She was going to say Holly. I know it. But I let the moment pass.

"We have the map?" I ask. Chime nods. "Can you walk, though?"

Chime broke her left leg with a few weeks ago on the mayor's roof. Tripped, or something. Luckily, she's a healer, so at least she's been able to treat it. Chime's still wearing a cast, so I don't know if she can handle it.

"I walked here, didn't I?" asks Chime, grinning.

"Then let's go," I say. "Blace, can you get the rest of them?"

"Sure, Aryn," he says, and runs off. As fast as a jet. I've never seen a jet rocket before, of course, but I've seen the pictures. From textbooks in school. More fancy things of the Capitol.

Time is wasting, but I force myself to wait. How many districts has Amy successfully convinced now? Two? Three? Ten? I don't know. I can only hope that we won't have to wait too long for her. I ache for my sister.

"Is it true?" a girl asks behind me. I jump, unaware that they would be here so soon.

"Blace says it is," I shrug. "Come on, let's check," I say once all twenty-two people have arrived.

I hesitantly walk over to the hole in the fence. As I walk forwards, no magnetic feeling presses against me. There's no more north and south poles anymore. There's just me against the fence. The rebellion against the Capitol.

I take one last look at the smoldering ruins of District Eleven. The scorched walls. Burned grass. Black dust. The beautiful meadows of the Garden. I say one last goodbye to Holly Millson, my best friend, and leap through the fence.

Towards freedom.

* * *

And... cut!


	20. Chapter 20

Very short. Be warned.

_

* * *

Chapter Twenty_

**-Amy-**

"Where to now?" I ask. I know I only have a few days left. I'm ready to face death.

"Somewhere safe," Sage says immediately.

"Yes," I agree. "For me, not you."

He begins to protest at once, but I raise my voice. It brings a brief blackout to my vision, but I steady myself and close my eyes. "Sage. Listen. I have to get healed. Both you and I, we know that. But if I'm gone, the only hope of rebellion is… you."

"I'm nothing without you, Amy," says Sage softly. I jerk my head upwards. What? Did he just suggest…

"The rebellion is nothing without you," I say firmly. "Felia will take me to somewhere where it's safe. You will lead the rebellion. How many districts do we have left? Two, Three, Five, Six, Nine, and Twelve. Six more. We've done a lot, Sage. We can't back up now. There is only one path, and it's one-way. It leads forwards."

"It leads forwards…" Sage echoes me, head down. After a moment, he whispers, "All right. But I'm doing this just for the dead."

Then he's gone, and I'm left wondering if there was some different kind of relationship between him and Maybelle.

"So where do we go?" I ask Clarity casually.

"We don't know," she says tentatively. "The districts aren't a choice. The Underground entrances are hidden, and it'll take weeks to find them. No one in their district knows the second hidden entrance. So it's going to have to be the woods. It's full of predators… we'll need to take a pack of a hundred, and we can't lose that much."

I flashback to the moment where the hundred kids were sent to death. They must be dead now. I can only hope that they died quickly, and died thinking that they were heroes, that they contributed to the rebellion's succession.

"No," I say. "We can't lose another hundred. So we take seven with us, including the three of us. Each from a different district."

The siblings look up at me in surprise. "What?" Felia demands. "Seven? The wild bears and dogs and muttations will kill us in days!"

It's true. We've only survived because of our large number. No predator stupid enough will track down such a huge group. The occasional dogs we kill are just scampering away from us.

"So we take by air," I say.

"Air is no good," says Clarity quietly. "High pressure isn't good for you, Amy. Besides, there won't be enough fuel to keep the helicopter going for weeks…"

"We simply go to the last place the Capitol will ever imagine," I say with a smile, even though it hurts to move. "Right into the lion's den."

Shock is clearly displayed on the Reynolds siblings' faces. Especially Clarity – hence the name. Finally, Felia gets the nerve to speak up, breaking the eerie silence descending upon our heavy shoulders.

"You mean… we're going… going…" He can't complete the sentence.

"That's right," I say with a forced grin. "We're going to the Capitol."

* * *

Right into the lion's den... let's hope the lion isn't hungry. Or at least, isn't wearing his super 10000x magnification glasses...


	21. Chapter 21

LONG CHAPTER! 2,268 words alone, not counting the bits I'm writing now!

_

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One_

It takes a while to convince the Reynolds of my plan. The Capitol wouldn't expect us flying right into their den. We can ditch the plane three-quarters through and go through the rest on foot. Camouflage suits are easy to get. I can walk with a cast. Even if I get tired, Felia and Clarity can carry me. We can camp out at the edges of their Rocky Mountains, out of sight of the scouts.

Of course, it'll be hard. The Capitol has ferocious security. Laser beams. Camera eyes. Automatic firing turrets that blow your feet off. Traps that leave you dangling by a leg in a tree. Nests and nests of muttations. Helicopters circling overhead 24/7. Sharpshooters from the tips of the mountains. Other booby-traps I can't even imagine of.

I just want to get out of here before Sage comes. He has a knack for getting people to side with him; this is my only chance of life. Sage might be smart, coming from his name's definition, but he's stubborn. Certainly stubborn.

"So, who'll it be?" I ask. Clarity coughs and runs her hand down a list of rebels. It goes down for pages and pages, but at least a third were killed from the bombs. A lot of people, in my head. Of course it's a lot, but to the Capitol, it's just another blade of grass stepped on.

"From District Four, Jesse Summers," says Clarity. "From District Ten, Jaden Flitters. From District Eleven, Amelia Renderson, and from District Six, Kasan Harrows."

Amelia Renderson. I don't know her personally, but I do know that her parents were killed in the same way mine were. Muttation attack. Suddenly, I am afraid for her. For losing her entire family to mutts and dying herself that way.

"Did they agree yet?" I ask weakly.

"Yes," says Clarity. "While you were persuading Felia, the stubborn nut –" Felia punches her on the arm, "– I went around and asked."

"Oh," I say. I can only hope that they don't die. I don't want more lives lost on this mission. Again, that's next to impossible. If Maybelle were here, she would say that no more deaths occurring will have one out of ten billion chances. Other chances are that the Capitol will destroy us all using air forces, the Capitol will destroy us using tanks, and so on. Our one chance is that the Capitol gives up and surrenders, and gives us all happy balloons.

_Dream on, Amy_, I tell myself.

**-Aryn-**

I'm running through the woods now, and it takes a lot of restraint to push my whoops of joy down my throat. Now's not the time, but I still skip and prance my way through its branches. The others are happy, too, finally free from our prison of a home.

"Which way's the Capitol?" I ask, finally breathless. Chime, who apparently has been keeping track of us, answers.

"North of here," she says, and steers me in another direction. "Let's keep the party down, Aryn. Don't want to get lost and jeopardize the mission."

I can feel my cheeks burning red. She's right, of course.

"Sorry," I mumble, which I don't think is an apology enough. But Chime simply laughs.

"Don't worry," she tells me. "I've felt like skipping, too. Finally free, aren't we?"

"Yeah," I say gratefully.

To the north we go.

It takes us several days to get there. Along the way, we pass by the remains of what probably used to be District Eight. The ugly factories is proof of that.

"I guess Amy's led a rampage across Panem," I mutter. Now isn't exactly the time for jokes, but if I don't laugh about it, I'll cry about it.

"Leading a million angry bulls her way," Blace continues. We have a good time laughing at that.

That day, we make remarkable progress north. As the Rocky Mountains – the nest of the Capitol – gets closer, we get tenser. We jump at the slightest breeze of the wind, thinking of bullets brushing past us. We jump at the tiniest shivers of a leaf, thinking of tracker jackers. Once, it actually was. We screamed and ran for cover, right into a fire. The Capitol had been tracking us, but why they didn't kill us I don't know. Maybe they wanted my death to be public. But we've ran through the wall of fire, and rolled onto the ground to emit the flames. As we glanced back to see the tracker jackers, we found nothing.

"Smoke," Chime said. "It drowses tracker jackers."

Now, we all carry an unlit torch and flint with us.

We've triggered quite a lot of booby traps, too. Three of the rebels were injured this afternoon, when they stepped on snares. The rest of us had to jump through trees to get through safely, after cutting them down. Now, we're more cautious than ever with the stone mountain looming over us. Hard rocks that can trigger an avalanche. Hard and stubborn, like the Capitol. We'll make that their weakness, and our advantage.

"We should stop here," says Chime once we're within a mile of the mountain, days later. "Those air forces circling overhead seem very keen to take us out."

"Would've taken us out earlier, anyways," says a girl named Tibitha. "We should just hike on. They're too chicken to blast us."

"No," I say firmly.

"Why not?" Tibitha presses. "I mean…"

"No is no," I tell the thirteen-year-old. She grumbles, burning in shame, and turns back to her cold meal. We've long since decided that fires are too dangerous, seeing how the smoke can give away our position.

Now there's nothing to do but wait. When the helicopters start blasting, we'll join the fun.

**-Amy-**

With District Thirteen's help, things have improved dramatically. The district develops nuclear weapons. All we do is to gather the Peacekeepers into one area and blast them. It doesn't necessarily have to be a nuclear bomb – regular ones do just fine also.

Of course, it takes out a various number of rebels, too, but we've all killed someone on our side before. A ducking Peacekeeper. An arrow going the wrong way. Most of all, a knife in the heart.

Of course, I haven't seen those explosions. Sage has been telling me about them over the helicopter's radio. I'm currently flying over the ruins of District Eight, and we'll be reaching the Capitol within a few hours. If there are delays, possibly a day.

The time passes quickly.

"Get ready for landing," Felia says from his position in the cockpit. "Buckle up, boys and girls."

We do obediently. Next to him, Clarity grips a lever, her fingers resting on several buttons with the most bizarre names. I don't know how they learn their names and their benefits. Must take ages to memorize them all. Is that what they do in Thirteen? Sit around and fly hovercrafts all day?

Landing is rough and shaky. Even though District Thirteen's technology matches the Capitol, this helicopter has gone through many battles. The rebellion could only spare this one, without rocket holsters. I grit my teeth and suck it out, my bones rattling in their sockets, my teeth threatening to fall out. When silence mercifully comes, I open my tightly shut eyelids.

"Are we alive?" I ask.

**-Aryn-**

The end of the world starts when a helicopter crashes into the trees.

It's not the regular silver helicopter from the Capitol. No, this one is light blue, the perfect color of the sky. But as I watch, fascinated, the plane turns green and yellow as it enters the forest.

"Amazing," Chime whispers. "It uses automatic detectors to–"

"Shut it," I tell her. Sometimes, Chime is Maybelle's evil twin. Another human encyclopedia.

"What is it?" Blace's voice is next to me, tugging at my elbow. "Aryn? Hello?"

That jerks me out of Aryn World and into the present. "Right," I say. "Let's investigate."

"Aryn…" Chime sounds like a mother warning her daughter not to cut the curtains. "That's dangerous. The Capitol could be there, luring you in."

"It's not the Capitol," I reply, shrugging.

"Oh? How can you be so sure?" Chime asks. "Aryn. You're being rash here. Think. This would be the perfect opportunity for the Capitol to get you!"

"Get me?" I ask. "No one on our side will try to get me."

"So the Capitol is on your side?" Chime demands. I notice how she didn't say _our_ side.

"I didn't say it was the Capitol," I tell her, beginning to jog towards the wreck. There's no flame, luckily, so it seems safe to approach. Probably within fifty yards of me.

"Who is it, then? How can you be so sure?" Blace asks angrily. Great. Now they're playing Everyone Versus Aryn. They should be thanking me. I brought this rebellion together. For a moment, a flame of anger roars inside me, but I diminish it. They're just mad. I should just get over it and tell them.

"Oh, just before it landed, I saw something painted on its side," I say mysteriously.

"And it said?" Chime asks, raising an eyebrow. I can never figure out how people do it. Raising an eyebrow, that is.

"Hello?" Blace is waiting for an answer, along with the rest of my small army. I clear my throat and blurt out the answer.

"District Thirteen."

**-Amy-**

"Well, we're alive," says the boy from District Ten, Jaden Flitters.

"Yes, which must be why we can feel all this pain," I groan. My leg hurts more than ever, not counting the various burns I've gotten from District One.

"Everyone okay back there?" Felia calls from the front.

"No," we reply simultaneously.

"Good," says Clarity. I bite my lip to prevent myself from yelling every single insult I know of into her face.

"We've crash landed, sorry, the rotors malfunctioned," Felia continues.

"I can tell," I say dryly.

"Quite well," Jesse Summers, from District Four, adds.

"Did anyone die?" I ask, panic rising into my chest. "Say something if you're alive!"

Six voices rise from the broken helicopter. I unbuckle the straps holding me to the passenger's seat and glance around. Jesse and Jaden are both there. So is Kasan Harrows. Now… where is Amelia Renderson?

"I'm here!" she calls now. "Right here!"

We dig around for a moment before catching a glimpse of Amelia's face, fresh with cuts on her faces. "Something fell on top of me when we landed," she says almost apologetically. "Sorry."

"There's nothing for you to be sorry for, dear," says Felia, running forwards. "This helicopter is junk, for sure."

"Better clear out before the Capitol sees us," I mumble.

Voices of agreement are passed among the seven of us. We slowly test our limbs, check that our digits are still there, and walk out what used to be the door. Felia has to force it open with his shoulder, and even then he needs Jaden and Jesse to help. I just stand there mutely with Clarity, Kasan, and Amelia. I can't help but feel glad that Amelia's alive. Of course, I'd feel glad if anyone was alive, but the Capitol people, but I feel really glad that Amelia is alive. There's a difference, you know.

"Door's open," Felia grunts. "Everyone, out! We have to get out of here!"

We troop out the door in a slow walk, testing for booby traps. Maybe we set them all off when we crashed. But I'm still really shaken up to be sure.

"What the?" Kasan's voice reaches my ears, shocking my vision into usual. Behind the door stands the last person I ever expect to be there…

"Aryn?" I whisper.

"Amy?" My sister slowly extends a hand, touching my arm gingerly as if it would dissolve if she touched it. "I… Amy… Are you there? Really there?"

"I'm here, Aryn," I whisper. "I'm here."

The shock, the happiness, the feeling of safety, they all engulf my body. The amazing thing is, I'm not crying. I'm just so glad that my sister's safe. She must've gotten out of District Eleven safely. I want to press her for details, and I know that she wants to do the same, too, but we simply fall into a tight hug while the rest of my group, and her group, watch stiffly on the sidelines. I'm squeezing every bit of air from her lungs, that's how hard I'm hugging her. But you can't blame me. I've been separated from her for too long. Way too long. The Capitol is to blame for this, and they'll pay for it good. Together, we, the Rosalina twins, shall destroy them utterly.

Right now, though, all I feel is the relief flooding through me. The dreams of future can wait until later. Right now, all that matters to me is that I have been reunited with my sister. My only living relative. The person I love the most, perhaps the _only _person I love. Locked in an infinite embrace of sisterhood, I can only get around one thought in my head.

I have a family again.

* * *

Whew. That was hard to edit. I can't believe the mistakes I make while writing... well, now that's over with... 21 chapters down, 6 more to go! Then we can finally start Blizzard... oh, that one's a surprise. But yes, it's my next fanfic.


	22. Chapter 22

**PART THREE – THE PRICE**

_Chapter Twenty-Two_

At that moment, nothing matters but Amy. I hug her tight, crushing her lungs, maybe. Either way, I'm so joyful, I want to cry.

"Where's the rest of them?" I ask after several long minutes. "You know… Maybelle and Sage. And the rebellion. Why'd your helicopter crash? How many districts are in play?" I'm now the business Aryn. No kidding there.

"Sage is still fighting… I got injured in District One, so Thirteen decided to give me a lift to somewhere safe. This has to be as safe as we can get; the Capitol will never expect it. Besides, after our stunt with the false alarm, they'll probably ignore us," she says in one huge breath.

"And Maybelle?" Chime cuts in. Amy stares at her as though she were a centipede. Then registration kicks in, and she opens her mouth. Then closes it. And opens it again.

"Well?" I ask impatiently. "Details, details."

Her moment of silence says everything.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I tried. But in the end it was my fault."

I can't breathe. Can't move. My lungs are on fire now, fire from the emptiness of air. I take in a huge breath. Maybelle. Dead. Gone. No way. Any moment now, I'll wake up in District Eleven, pretending this had never happened. But it'll never happen.

"Who killed her?" I hiss.

Amy glares at the ground, before mumbling, "I did."

Anger courses through me, and I step forwards, knife in hand. "You little traitor!" I yell. "I thought you were my sister! I thought you were on our side! Why'd you come here? Why? Why? Why? You wanted to take me out but your helicopter crashed, instantly giving away your position? Huh?"

I know I've always had a temper problem, but this is madness. Amy… My sister. I thought I'd known her.

"I wish I never knew you," I say angrily, brandishing my knife. But I can't kill her. I've been through to much to do it. Instead, I turn on my heels and face the opposing forest.

"Please, listen to me first," Amy begs, finally coming back to reality. "Aryn. Please."

"Only because I'm your sister," I say bitterly. Give her the go-ahead. I'd like to see her defend herself.

"It was during District Eight's battle. We'd thought we covered everything, but sent scouts around to check anyways. I heard commotion behind me, and it sounded suspicious, so I swung my knife… I thought… I thought it was a Peacekeeper. But it turned out to be… to be… I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I tried to keep her alive. The last words she said were_, it isn't your fault_. But it's not true. It is my fault. I killed her. It was an accident. Aryn, please understand!"

I stand there for a long moment, taking it in. Would I have reacted in the same way she would? These days, if you don't react, you die. Simple. But would I go as far as kill a comrade? A partner? A… friend?

Ten minutes later, ten minutes of silence, I realize that no one's talking. Not those watching the two Rosalina sisters fighting. They're just standing stock-still, seeing what will happen.

I make the first move. Turning around, I ask one of the people Amy came back with, "Is it true?"

"Yes," the person says immediately. Amy's face relaxes by a notch.

"Is it true?" I ask again, only to the man behind her.

"Yes," he says. "That's what Sage told me."

So at least Sage is safe. For now.

"Isn't he mad at you?" I ask. My question is directed at Amy. I'm still a tad on the cold side, but I won't run away. I would've done the same if our roles were reversed. I'd have killed without thinking.

"Who?" Amy asks evasively.

"Sage," I say, attempting to raise an eyebrow. Chime snickers and raises her left brow. I stomp the ground in frustration, which only makes her laugh harder, and bringing fits of giggles from the rebels. "Anyways," I say, bringing the conversation back on topic, "Isn't Sage mad at you?"

"He was, for a few days," says Amy. "He wouldn't talk to me at all, scarcely looked my way. In District One, he warmed up to me."

"And where does Thirteen come from?" I ask.

"They tracked us helped out," says Amy. There's something she's hiding, but I don't press her for details.

"I thought Sage would murder you," I say.

"He didn't, because I'm clearly here," says Amy impatiently.

"He had a close relationship with Maybelle, you know," I say. "I think he liked her before… the incident."

Amy is a statue for a few seconds, and then she starts breathing again. "I… I've always suspected it, but I've never been sure. How can you be so positive?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I ask. "You should've seen Sage's face when Maybelle showed up at the hanging. When Sage found out that Maybelle was on the forest part of the fence, he actually let out a sigh of relief. There's more, I'm sure. Sage would've swapped places for Maybelle in an instant."

Amy's still struggling to recover. I see a cast on her leg, and turn away, embarrassed. How can I not notice that? She's my sister, for the mockingjay's sake.

"Enough secrets said, alright?" she finally says.

"You like him, don't you?" I ask teasingly. It's not true, but I don't have a lot of time for jokes in my lifetime anymore. I'm fourteen. True. Lots of life to live out. But the next few weeks will be a nightmare for all of us. I don't know how many lives I've killed. How many wives I've sent plunging into the endless black hole of despair, how many children I've sent to immobilization, how many tears that have been shed. We've lost soldiers, too. Every night, the death toll is counted, and those names not read out, their families will break down and weep. Make a makeshift grave. Bury him in flowers. Say a prayer, and leave.

I need some happiness in my life.

Amy's cheek flushes red. "I do not!" she cries, but the corners of her mouth are tugging forwards. I let the moment of hate pass; it's good enough to be sisters again.


	23. Chapter 23

_Chapter Twenty-Three_

I take Amy back to our camp. Along the way, she fills me in on the districts she has successfully dominated, and I inform her on the shortages the Capitol's been seeing. They've been starving, for instance, from lack of food from Districts Four, Ten, and Eleven. Clothing stores are dying because District Eight has been demolished, shortening their supplies of fabrics. And so on. The Capitol is weakening.

We speak in hushed whispers, too excited to hold it in, but still fearing that we'll activate mikes hidden in the forests. And it's not our fault when the guns start blaring.

"Pods!" Chime roars, diving for cover. We follow her, too. Pods are the nicknames for the booby traps, and they can contain anything. As the bullets race over our heads, I order everyone to stay low. Maybe the bullets won't reach this far… No way this was voice activated. We've simply stepped into a lion's den.

"Crawl!" I yell, and begin to inch forwards. If this attack goes on forever, then we'll be stuck here… I have a rebellion to lead!

Slowly, we inch our way forwards. Past the roars of the guns, the smashing sounds as the bullets hit the trees. We've almost moved out of range when I crawl onto a Peacekeeper boot.

Huh? In my foggy mind, I can't make sense of it. A boot. A…

Peacekeeper!

I dare to look up. Yes, I recognize the uniform. Silver fabrics weaved into a crisp shirt and pants. The gun at the sides…

"Well, well, well," he says, laughing. "I came here to look for my cigarette and I get a rebel!"

He glances around at the army of rebels, and laughs again. "A whole lot of you guys, then!"

He doesn't get to say another word. Amy's knife stabs him right in the heart and he falls to the ground. Immediately I know that it's a trap.

Peacekeepers don't act like this. Anyone stupid enough like him will never get a job as a Peacekeeper. When a real Peacekeeper gets a handful of rebels, he shoots them immediately. So why am I not dead? Why is Amy not dead? Why is Chime not dead? Why aren't we all dead?

Because this is a trap.

A drunken fool from the Capitol they've dressed in a silver uniform: that's what the main truly was. While all of our attention has been devoted onto him, an entire squad has circled around behind us.

"Take everyone but those three!" a voice cries. "The three from District Eleven! The two Rosalinas and the Perils girl!"

I can see everyone being wrestled off. Even those from the better districts and are well fed have trouble fighting off these three-hundred-pound Peacekeepers. Within seconds, everyone but me, Amy, and Chime has been wrested to the ground. The three of us simply get Peacekeepers gripping our shoulders.

My mind flies in a panic. I could reach my knife, but I doubt that I can throw it before I get shot. Amy's knife is in the dead body of the false Peacekeeper, so she can't either. Chime… her broken leg must be throbbing painfully.

"What are you doing?" Amy yells. "We… we just ran away from the districts! The rebels – they're declaring war on us!"

Thirty pairs of eyes land on her. Is she trying to play innocent? That she's just a look-alike? She's against the war? No, the Peacekeepers don't buy it.

"Your face is all over the screens of the Capitol," the leader growls. "We will recognize you anywhere, Amy Rosalina."

So even they can tell the difference between Amy and I, who are almost identical. My sister gulps.

"Now… who shall we start with?" he continues, flicking his wrist. His beady eyes land on me. "How about… you? Aryn Rosalina, the leader of rebellion. You shall perish first!"

Is this it, then? All of our hopes, dreams, and spirits of a brighter future launched into nothingness as the Peacekeeper cocks his gun? When his finger squeezes the trigger, it's all over. That'll be the end of Aryn Rosalina, end of the rebellion. End of everything we had hoped for.

"No!"

The cry comes from nowhere. Amy kicks her Peacekeeper in an unpleasant place and launches herself in front of me. The rest of them – all taken by surprise – do nothing as their leader unconsciously squeezes the trigger.

The surprise has given us a chance. As if on cue, all of the rebels spring up from their captors and stab them with their knives. Guns begin to fire, but the rebels are small, quick, and agile. They leap in and out between the Peacekeepers and their flying bullets, but at the moment, nothing has my attention but Amy.

There she is, right below me. Next to my feet lies the girl who had assisted me in multiple situations, the girl who had helped me with the rebellion. She led the army throughout Panem, cutting across districts, overpowering the Peacekeepers there. She is the reason why this rebellion has been successful… so far.

Now she is the girl with a bullet lodged in her heart.

"Amy," I whisper. "Amy. Don't go."

Her eyes lock onto mine. "I'm sorry. For killing Maybelle. For activating that pod. For everything…"

"It wasn't your fault," I say. I'm mad, yes, but more at the Capitol than her. "Amy, don't go. The rebellion needs you_. I need you_."

"That's a dream we'll never accomplish," she says sadly. "You have to take down the Capitol."

"You know I will," I whisper, trying not to look at the gaping hole right under her heart. A fatal shot. Nothing will cure her from this. Not even the Capitol and their fancy medicines. Her blood stains my hands, the scarlet stuff reminding me of the only family I have left. "I'll do it. For the entire rebellion, the rebel army. For Holly. For Maybelle. For you."

Amy has started twitching, as if trying to retrieve the will to live. But no. Life is a fragile thing. Hanging by a thread. All it takes is a single push and it all falls over. A cold burst of wind, and it's another flame of life snuffed out. When Amy's flames are gone… the entire rebellion's fire will seem to fall.

Not yet, though. It's not ending this quick. But it is, and I have to face the reality… I look down at my dying sister, forcing myself to stay with her in her last few moments of life.

For a moment, Amy's face lights up in a small smile. Then it fades, and I am looking into the vacant eyes of a dead girl.


	24. Chapter 24

_Chapter Twenty-Four_

"Amy."

_It won't help._

"Amy."

_You're wasting time._

"Amy!"

_She's gone. And she won't come back. Quit now before it's too late._

"Amy… Where have you gone?"

_Nowhere. She's gone. You must accept that._

She's dead.

The tears come now, pouring out of my eyes as if it were a broken faucet that needed fixing. It's true. I am a broken faucet, glaring down at the bullet that ended my sister's life. There she is, the broken pipe, cutting off the water supply that feeds me. Without her, I am nothing.

Around me lies a field of dead bodies, but I don't care. There could've been ten, twenty, or thirty. There could've been a hundred and I wouldn't have cared. All I can see now is the corpse of the dead girl who was my sister.

"Amy. Come back, please."

Of course, there is no answer. The ghost of Amy's last smile is still imprinted onto her face, to be there forever. Her warm brown eyes, once so full of life, now have an empty look in them. Is that all she is, now? An empty shell?

"Let's go."

Chime's voice breaks the thin ice between reality and me. In my head, Amy is still the bright and happy girl who was my entire life.

"I can't leave her." The only words I can get out without drowning Amy with my tears.

"We'll take her with us. You can't stay here forever. You have to fulfill her last and final wish."

Destroy the Capitol. Give the district people a proper life. Amy's last request for a sister she was so proud of…

"Goodbye, Amy," I whisper, and kiss her gently on the forehead. Her flesh feels cold against my skin. As stiff as a body stuffed in a refrigerator… Chime offers to take Amy, along with the District Thirteen rebels, but I refuse. Amy is my sister. I have the duty to take her from her death place to her final resting place…

Amy's body feels heavy, as if a hundred souls have poured into her, taking over her body, weighing it down. Or maybe I'm just too weak to hold her. People pass by say a few words to Amy, and leave with tears in their eyes. Everyone loves Amy. They've all gotten to know her. I close my eyes, hoping that when I open them again, Amy will be in front of me, telling me that I'm being stupid again…

No. She's dead. I have to accept that. I have to. I must grant her the last request.

I somehow stumble through the trees, branches, weeds, bushes, hedges, and grass and into the clearing where we made camp. I ignore the voices calling me to eat and instead lay my sister's body down onto the soft green grass. Didn't this happen already with Holly? Bury her in flowers? This time, it has to be something new.

Amy has always adored willows. The Willow in the Garden back at home.

There is no home anymore, I remind myself. District Eleven is gone. Along with every other aspect of home.

But it will always exist in my memory. And so will Amy. I find a willow nearby and strip its long flowing leaves and use it. Tying her hair back into her original braid. Chime and a few others step in and weave her a blanket using the willows. I step back and admire our handiwork. Like Holly, she could be simply asleep in the meadows after all.

I gulp down my meal, not really caring what I'm eating. Amy might be gone, but I have a mission to accomplish. Something I've been doing the whole time, but now with Amy's request hanging on my shoulders, the pressure increases. I must do this for Amy.

"So, what's the plan?" I ask Chime. She stares back blankly.

"This is your rebellion," she reminds me. Right. I turn and face the tiny army, and notice how many people died. I take a deep breath, and begin.

"We have lost people today. Your friends, family, acquaintances, colleagues, allies. I have lost my sister. You have lost your relatives. But today, we are going to make the Capitol pay!

"Most likely, Sage Newheart is leading a rampage across Panem at this very moment. When he comes to the Capitol, I believe that there is only one entrance. Through the train stations. We will head there now and stop about a mile from it. When we hear the footsteps that signal that the entire army is moving through, we join them and fulfill our mission for taking down the Capitol!"

Cheers arise from the crowd, but quickly stop, given our position so near to the Capitol. Even with so many losses, perhaps we can still do this. Honor the dead, and the living.

In those dark days long ago, all this has seemed to be a joke. But now, after Amy's death, things have started to get serious.

The time to act… is now.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Furious preparations are thrown into place. Knives are sharpened, and those who lost weapons are making them from sticks and stones. We've begun the hike to the train tracks, and know that we're on the right track as a train piled to the top with weapons pass by. I don't think they saw us – we were concealed in the trees and with that thing going at a hundred miles per hour, they probably didn't see a finger here, a strand of hair there.

District Two makes weapons for the Capitol. So they're still active. I can only hope and pray that it's all we've got left.

Waiting is hard. Every day it's exactly the same. Wake up. Forage for our meals. Eat. Wait. Forage. Eat. Wait. Forage. Eat. Wait. Sleep. Wake up. And the cycle starts all over again.

Eventually, after about two weeks, we finally start hearing the footsteps. Thousands of people can't keep their silence completely. I motion to Chime, who passes down the gesture. As one, we start moving.

I burst through the final break of trees and there he is, bandage over one shoulder, cuts and bruises on his face, shirt torn at the edge. But I recognize him. His piercing eyes, widening in shock as I dash up to him, and wrap my arms around his neck.

"Sage," I murmur.

Everyone's looking at me, but I don't care. I look behind me and see Chime standing nervously beside a tree, the shadows of the rebellion behind her. Sage laughs and waves them forwards. "What're you waiting for?" he asks. "Chime, Felia, Clarity, come on! We've got a Capitol to take down!"

Then he frowns quizzically as if remembering something. "Aryn…" he says slowly. "Where's Amy?"

I don't answer. My silence is enough to answer him.

"Well… that's a bit of a problem," he says, frowning.

"No kidding," I agree gravely. Amy is the last thing I want to think about. I put my mouth right next to Sage's ear and whisper to him silently. "Amy had a last request. To take down the Capitol. To make sure that her death wasn't a waste. Please, Sage. Do this. For her. For Maybelle."

His eyes flash dangerously. "Of course I would do that, Aryn! Do you think I would abandon you?"

"Just saying," I reply, drawing back. "To give you something to think about. When you absolutely cannot go on, think about Amy and how she gave her life so that I would live. As a reminder."

"Alright," he agrees quietly. Turning back to face the rebellion, he shouts out, "People of Panem, the districts, the rebellion, our leader Aryn Rosalina has joined us once more!"

The crowd roars in happiness, delight, and excitement as I hold up my hands and yell, "It's time to take down the Capitol, brick by brick! Let us avenge our dead brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles, cousins and friends! We shall not back down no matter what dangers we face! The Capitol shall back down… NOW!"

The cries nearly deafen my ears and I charge forwards, knife in hand. Following the train tracks, I dash a few meters beside them, always keeping the ruins of the district at my back. The Rocky Mountains are right in front of me now, as I give in another spurt of energy…

The guards are simply overwhelmed by the sheer number of rebels. Arrows fire over the crowds as they take down the tiny number of Peacekeepers. Bodies fall, the newly shed blood of a new war, trampled underneath the feet of both Peacekeepers and rebels alike. We storm into the Capitol, and the real fight begins.

I sink my knife into a shiny silver uniform, and dodge a fist as it comes swinging at my face but take a kick to the thigh instead. I crumple to the ground, roll over, and throw my knife into the face of yet another Peacekeeper. He keels over, dead, and I grab my knife and pull it out of his skull. It's like this every time. Dodge, attack, get hit, recover, run. I love every second of it, because every life gone accounts for the deaths of the rebels. Holly. Maybelle. Amy…

We charge up the streets of the Capitol, yelling. Citizens scream and bang their windows shut, but we don't care about them. The Peacekeepers are their bodyguards. Without them, they are nothing but a bunch of cowardly dyed mice waiting for death.

We take over street after street, and it seems that we are almost winning, that the Peacekeeperes are less dense, that maybe we have finally won the battle for freedom, when the first bomb hits.

The blast hits me in the ribs, and I fly backwards, hitting my head on the edge of a fountain. Its cold water sprays me over the face as I clamber up. Nuclear, I think.

The bombs are raining down on us as the Capitol gives off its last burst of weapons, a desperate hope to reclaim its land. I can only sit in the water and watch helplessly as the number of rebels die down. Helicopters, hovercrafts, planes, they dip down and scoop up thousands of rebels at a time, undoubtedly shipping them back to their various districts. I'm watching my whole rebellion being torn into pieces, in the rain of the Capitol's guts. All this is happening in split seconds.

Sometimes there's no warning. No warning at all.


	26. Chapter 26

_Chapter Twenty-Six_

I've always stood up brave. When I wanted to say something, I said it. When I wanted to argue, I argued. When I wanted to fight, I fought. When I wanted to bring down the Capitol, I tried.

I tried. I tried my hardest. But sometimes, the losses are too much to bear, starting with Holly Millson. Maybelle Waters. Amy Rosalina. Countless others. I remember that glorious night, on Sage Newheart's birthday, when District Eleven was thrown into celebration as we planned our taking down of the Capitol. It seems so long ago.

Of course, it is so long ago. By my calculations, we are nearing the Capitol's fiftieth anniversary. And it seems like that even I cannot achieve my original goal. We are days away from their anniversary celebration, and we've stampeded the Capitol, and got utterly destroyed.

What are we, really? Or specifically, what am I? After all this… I am a coward.

Hiding out in that fountain, I close my eyes, but I can still hear them. Each blast means another hundred lives lost, gone from the world, souls still screaming their curses at the Capitol and their cruelty that had led to their fate. The Capitol is all a sham. They rely on nothing but the districts. Now I see it, the flaw in my plan. It would've been so much better if we simply starved the Capitol to death. District Eleven was the first district to rebel. Then, we stopped giving them food. Oh, there are other food supplies, surely, but not enough to last them for months. They relied on other food sources – District Four's fish, District Ten's livestock – but they lack in other supplies too. Lumber and paper from District Seven. Fabrics from Eight. Medicines from Six. Coal from Twelve. Weaponry from Two. Nuclear weaponry from Thirteen…

If only Maybelle were here! She would've told us to wait for the Capitol to starve themselves. To make themselves extinct. And then unleash our full forces.

I've been so stupid. This rebellion, it's been nothing but a child's dream. What good did it do? All I did was to wipe out most of Panem's population. Now, there's nothing to do but to take a deep breath and do the best I can.

Assassinate the president. Yes. An election was held up a few weeks before the first sparks of rebellion, and a young man in his twenties won. His name is Coriolanus Snow. If I kill him, would Panem fall apart? Probably not. They'll just elect a new president. But at least it's some sort of satisfaction to Amy's last request.

Groaning, I test my body, checking that all the parts are there. I feel dizzy from crashing into the fountain and feel that I'll get a serious concussion. My ribs feel bruised and they complain the moment I take a step, so I sit back down. I feel cuts all over my body and several are only scratches, but I feel blood running down my face, my arms, my legs. If I can walk ten meters, it'll be a miracle.

I take a deep breath, and find a rod that had broken from the fountain. Maybe it's the pipe. I don't know, and I don't care either. Using it I hoist myself to my feet once more and begin walking. Yes, I can walk, if I go slowly. I'm fully revealed, but hopefully people will mistake me as a Capitol citizen. I don't know.

But I do know that my plan has utterly, completely, 100% failed when I hear the shouts. "Rosalina!" So they're looking for me, then. Or maybe they've found me.

My fingers scramble at the pipe, trying to get a good grip, but soon it slides out of my clutches. Without it, I sway like a reed in the breeze, and collapse.

I can feel them, now, the strong hands lifting me up. Peacekeepers. I know. From my blurry vision, I can see them. Silver uniforms, guns cocked, beady little eyes with their visions set on mine. They're carrying me away, away from the rebellion, away from my hopes and dreams of a better tomorrow.

"Wake up."

Someone's slapping my cheek over and over again. I groan, because it hurts. Why would it not hurt, added to the enormous amount of cuts and bruises? My eyes fly open and I cry out, "I'm awake!"

All that comes out is a hoarse croak. But the angry hands retreat and I find myself propped in a chair, facing a stage. My hands are manacled to the chair, my feet bound to the legs of it, and a chain acts like a seatbelt, keeping me in place. Even if the restraints are gone, I wouldn't be able to move. How could I? Everywhere aches. I can't move even if I wanted to. And that doesn't account for the huge number of guns trained and pointed right at me.

To my right is Chime, an ugly wound on her right arm, and several lashes across the face. Bruises cover almost every inch of her body, and areas where there aren't any sickly yellow spots are filled with dried blood. Sage, to my left, doesn't look any better. Is this all we have left? The three of us? Where are the others? Felia? Clarity? Jesse, Jaden, Amelia, and Kasan? My remaining handful of District Eleven rebels? Are they all back to their homes/prisons, or have they been executed? Are they dead from the bombing?

The Peacekeepers guarding us are talking in hushed whispers, but not taking their eyes off us. I hear that the Capitol is blaming District Thirteen for the bombing. Right. Nuclear weapons, Thirteen's specialty. Of course they would say that, because they don't want their dear and near Capitol citizens think that they bombed their own city. So instead they blame it on Thirteen, but they aimed wrong and took out the rebels rather than the Peacekeepers. That's fooling no one apart from the gullible Capitol people.

Thirteen is still rebelling, even after being sent back to their districts. Their numbers are weakening right now, and soon Thirteen will be dumped off the map. Just as Chime, Sage, and I will be soon. Is this it? Is this our execution?

No.

Apparently, with everyone back in their appropriate districts, a program will air live tonight. Required viewing. Rebels had tried to rebel again, but it's useless. They're so beaten, bloody, tired, hungry, thirsty, and near dead it'll be like trying to defeat an adult bear with a marshmallow.

The show starts with a bang as the spotlights hit the stage in front of me. The lights dim so that only the stage is lit, and the curtains withdraw. I don't have time to marvel at the technology we've never had in 11, because President Snow steps onto the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, people of Panem, you have all heard, or participated, in the rebellion we call the Dark Days! Those rebels have taken over their districts, allied with others, stormed the Capitol, and were beaten bloody by our Peacekeepers!"

I want to bite him as the cheers arise from behind me.

"Here today, right now, we have the remaining three out of six rebel leaders. Chime Perils, their medical doctor," Snow continues. The cameras all focus on Chime's weary face, whose eyes glare them down.

"Sage Newheart," the president keeps on going, "The army leader and war planner!"

If only looks could kill… Then both Snow and Sage would be dead, along with the cameras and every single person in Panem looking into their eyes.

"Finally, we have the original planner of this whole mess… Aryn Rosalina."

In the deathly silence that follows, I give the cameras my best I'll-Kill-You Rosalina stare. After what seems to be for centuries, the cameras turn away and Snow continues his speech.

"We think that we should decide a punishment for the districts who rebelled. That is to say, all thirteen districts, perhaps twelve. District Thirteen is currently still fighting, but they shall be eliminated soon, so they do not count. But we wanted our living rebel leaders to see this… live."

"What is it?" someone shouts out from the crowd. This starts a huge chant of _What is it? What is it? What is it?_ I want to cover my ears, but they're manacled to my chair.

"Starting next summer, we will have the Hunger Games hosted annually, a punishment to what the rebels did to their descendants."

Confusion stirs among the crowd, and in my brain too. The Hunger Games? What is that?

"Every year, each district must send one boy and one girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen to the annual Hunger Games, called tributes. There shall be a total of twenty-four each year. After a week of training, interviews, and preparations, they shall be sent and locked into an arena. There is only one way to get out of it… if you are the last person alive. People of the Capitol, is that suitable?"

The cheers prove just that. I notice how he said the Capitol, not Panem. This just proves that we are the Capitol's slaves. Pawns. We do not get to vote. But the Hunger Games – these are terrible. Terrible. Forcing kids to fight to the death? Didn't they have enough of that already during the rebellion? In my heart, I feel a rise of anger, hate, and other furious emotions. This is nothing but cruelty.

In the din of stampeding feet, screams and cheers, I can only form one thought in my head. _I'm sorry, Amy._

Alright. As you might've been noticing, I haven't been including footnotes lately. Why? I did, saved it, and they disappeared. I just realized that, so I'm going to put the footnotes _in _the document itself.

So. Thank-yous go out to Hahukum Konn and d1996 for being my two wonderful reviewers, supporting me with this. Thanks, guys!

Also, thank you to the rest of the reviewers, and even those who didn't but liked the story. Okay, also to those who read it but didn't like it. At least you read it. :)

Anyways, there's one more chapter left and an epilogue. Should I hold the last chapter until Christmas or 2011? Maybe. Okay, probably not. I'm not _that _mean. Am I? Most likely I'd get bored tonight and finish off the rest of it.


	27. Chapter 27

We're on the last chapter! THERE'S STILL AN EPILOGUE AFTER THIS, THOUGH! And yes, I'm no science expert, but about the water part… deal with it. :P

_Chapter Twenty-Seven_

We're dragged out of the stage, the ground making new cuts, breaking old ones, and tearing away my tender skin. I groan audibly, but they don't hear me. They as in the Peacekeepers.

We're tossed in a dank cell miles belowground. It's chilly and wet here, beetles scuttling up the stone walls. The three of us are in the same cell.

We've tried breaking out, scrabbling our bloodied fingernails against the stone walls. No such luck; it only makes them bloodier. We've tried pulling apart the bars. Needless to say, that doesn't work either. Sage has resulted in tugging the stone floors hoping to tunnel out, but Chime and I aren't stupid. No way it'll work.

So we've attained the fetal position, snuggling close to each other, trying to preserve whatever body heat we have left. Not talking, because our tongues freeze the moment we open our mouth. Soon our clothes are dampened with each other's blood and we sit there for eternity, waiting for death.

Death doesn't come, though. After sitting in there for so long our tongues are sandpaper dry, three bottles of water get pushed through the bars. We grab them eagerly and gulp it down. It's not enough. I need more. By their looks, Sage and Chime both want more, too.

"How long until the anniversary?" I stutter.

"T-two days," Chime replies, half frozen. I'm about to reply when I notice something.

"Y-Your cuts," I stammer. Her eyes widen as she looks at her arm. The wound is closing… within five minutes, the skin looks as good as new. I look down at myself. My cuts are gone, bruises no longer there. My ribs feel fine now, no longer singing pain when I move.

"They've healed us?" Sage asks in a hushed whisper. He looks at the bottle. "These… chemically enhanced in the labs, they close cuts and duplicate healthy cells, basically healing your whole body!"

Chime and Sage start talking about science and matter and elements and stuff I can't understand. Finally, both of them turn to me.

"What?" I ask.

"It's their plan. They want to keep us healthy so that… we make a good show," Chime whispers, tears in her eyes. "They're going to execute us. You know that, don't you?"

Of course I know. I'm about to reply – again – when I hear the footsteps. Chime widens her eyes.

"They're coming," she whispers.

Three bars slide back, giving just enough space for a Peacekeeper to walk through. Sage dives at the opening, but gets kicked by the Peacekeeper. Groaning, he holds his stomach as he tries to sit up.

The Peacekeeper grabs the back of Chime's shirt. So they will start with her.

Never.

I hold her hand tightly, but her mouth is moving. "Aryn. I want you to know that it's been a great honor to know you. You did a good job leading the rebellion. I'll do anything to serve under your command again."

And then she's gone, yanked around the corner by the brutal Peacekeepers. Her words echo in my head and I'm left with one last image of Chime Perils in my head.

I never saw her real face again.

"So it's down to the two of us," says Sage in a controlled tone. He's upset about Chime. So am I, really. But all I feel is an empty feeling. I add that to the list of things I am. A useless rebel leader. A coward. An injured girl. An empty shell.

"Yes," I say miserable. "Just the two of us left. Soon to be one."

"They'll come back tomorrow," says Sage. "Most likely, I'll be the one dead."

"Yeah," I reply glumly. It's true. They'll want to execute me later. Why not save the leader of the rebellion for last?

The night passes quickly. A loaf of bread arrives through the bars and I let Sage eat the whole thing. Better he die on a full stomach than starving.

The footsteps come back and Sage turns to me. Those brilliant eyes have tears in them.

"You did a great job," he says quietly. "But it was too much to hope for. But… It was the greatest experience of my life."

I nod, and close my eyes. When again they open, he's gone.

They'll come back for me, later, I think. And come back for me they do.

I can feel the noose tightening around my neck. I don't have much longer to smell the clean spring air, feel the cool breeze, see the greens of nature. I remember back then, the first day of rebellion, when Holly was about to be hanged. Then me. Then Amy. Everyone I cared about. History is repeating itself, because it's happening again.

I want to break down and sob, but I refuse to. I must stay strong. Everyone I've cared about is gone. Holly. Maybelle. Chime. Sage. Most of all, Amy…

Even the thoughts of little Pine and Mint bring near tears to my eyes. But no, I refuse to cry. I will not cry out as I die. I will die in silence, but my death will be remembered in silence. The Capitol shall not win this round. I might have failed Amy, failed her last wish, but if I die silently and quietly, it will be a sort of victory.

Black and red spots dance in front of my vision. One last chance, Aryn, I tell myself. One last chance to see the world.

But it's not the real world. Not the world I had a dream of, anyways. I dreamed of a world where the districts were treated as equals, even District One, those traitors. One where there is peace between the Capitol and the districts. One where we don't have to work so hard just to feed ourselves. One where the people of District Four don't drown on a regular basis. Where the people of District Three don't get electrocuted so easily. Where the citizens of District Eight aren't stuffed into freezing cold factories, where District Ten isn't likely to be killed from a stampede of cows. When District Eleven don't work ten hours a day, when District Twelve don't keel over from hunger every minute.

What I'm seeing are the bright green leaves of the false trees. The gleaming silver buildings that are wrong. The wretched city they call a city, of what should be called a trash bin. A sea of angry faces. Faces of the Capitol. The rebels are back in their dump of a hole, waiting for their fates to be decided. The Hunger Games has taken away our freedom, and I had thought that there was nothing worse than our old lives. I was wrong.

I close my eyes. I can see a brilliant white light in front of me. All the faces of the dead. The dead rebellion. My dead friends. It's time to join them. I can feel my life force slipping away as I drift off into the unknown. I can't feel pain. Am I rewarded with a painless death? Either way, I am still drifting through the white light, ready to join my friends once more…

The rebellion has failed. I must accept that. But it hasn't failed forever. Someday, sometime, the spark will fly again, and the flames will rise into an inferno to destroy the Capitol. The rebels will fight again.

Someday, but not today.

Not today.

…

AND CUT! We're done! The story's over! WE'RE DONE! *confetti flies*

I'd like to thank all my reviewers for making this story possible. Special thanks goes out to Hahukum Konn and d1996 for being my two wonderful reviewers of this fanfiction. Stay tuned for the epilogue!


	28. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

**-Seventy-Four Years Later-**

When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim's warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress. She must've had bad dreams and climbed in with our mother. Of course, she did. This is the day of the reaping…

_~END_

…

The long goal from Chapter One has reached its end.

Thank you – to all readers, reviewers, and supporters during this fanfiction. Again, special thanks goes out to Hahukum Konn, who reviewed basically every chapter, and d1996, who did the same thing. Thank you for making this possible!

Questions about the next fanfic? Well, I do have a wide supply of those. The next one... *takes deep breath* will be a sequel to Mockingjay...

Blizzard - A Mockingjay Sequel. That's its name. It'll be from the point of view of Finnick Odair's son, Finnick Odair Junior. Or II. Or Jr. Same thing. Anyways, it also revolves widely around the Capitol Games... when Finnick meets President Snow's granddaughter.

It'll show up sometime during Christmas. Happy holidays, everyone!


End file.
